


The Uni-Verse

by LilyPotteri



Series: The Uni-Verse collection [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyPotteri/pseuds/LilyPotteri
Summary: As Charles and Erik's twins start their second year at Columbia University, their parents think back to their own university experience in the '90s. Meeting each other and falling in love.It's basically a two-timeline University AU where they still have powers. But only with mutant ones. Other MCU characters appear but they don't have their abilities. It will make sense I promise (hope).It will get pretty smutty later on (in the second chapter) with multiple ships. This was my 2019 NaNo project, and it's still unfinished but I'm working on it.As always my gratitude goes out to my dearest beta-reader Kanako, who is the best <3
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Loki/Pietro Maximoff
Series: The Uni-Verse collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702333
Comments: 29
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

It was the end of August, the summer still in its full blow. Scorching heat enveloped all of New York in its fiery grip, tourists and residents alike sweating buckets and trying to find air-conditioned places, and get out of the heat.

In their comfortable two-story brownstone-house, the Lehnsherr-Xavier family was slowly waking up.

They were quite an unusual group of people. For a start, they were a gay couple raising twins, which would already count as a deadly sin for some of the bigoted homophobic people out there. But their queerness wasn't the only thing that made them stand out from the crowd. They were a family of mutants, people with a genetic mutation giving them special abilities. 

* * *

The first case of this specific kind of mutation emerged in the late '50s, quite a shock to everyone. It goes without saying how utterly terrified the public was when these people turned up with supernatural abilities. It was a dark time, the world still having difficulties handling anything that was slightly different from their norms. 

Just like people of color and queer people, mutants were feared, deemed dangerous and were prosecuted. 

So it wasn't a surprise how many of them hid their special abilities if they were able to. Because there were several different kinds of mutations, from psychic abilities to being able to change the seasons, or even themselves. Shapeshifters, telekinetics, people with the ability to fly - there seemed to be no end of the variables. Those who were lucky enough to hide their  _ specialties  _ lived their lives in constant fear of their secret coming to light. 

The special abilities usually developed over the early adolescent years, so most parents just tried to shrug it off, saying it was some kind of teenage hormonal issue and it would pass over time. It wasn't, though. 

Since the first appearance of mutants, things had changed for the better with time. Society was slowly learning how being different was not strictly a bad thing. It had been a long and painful journey, though, but with the help of some outspoken mutant-advocates, it was treated less and less like something abominable and more like what it was. Purely genetics, a matter of science. 

Scattered around the world, there were still establishments proclaiming they could _cure mutant children_ , but they had less and less business with each passing year. Of course, nothing was perfect. There was still ignorance, prejudice, and bigotry surrounding the issue, and still many people chose to hide their capabilities from the public. 

The year was now 2025 and in most parts of the world, there were no anti-mutant laws in place, no institutionalized mutant-phobia. Still, there were issues. Struggling to find a job, or being fired with some made-up excuse after finding out someone had special powers. Too many kids kicked out of unsupporting homes, mutant children stuck in the system of foster-care since people were still less inclined to adopt children who had the mutant genome. 

That was exactly the idea the Lehnsherr-Xaviers - namely, Charles and Erik - had when they had decided on adoption instead of using a surrogate mother. They had wanted to give a loving home to some unlucky mutant child. 

Being mutants themselves, they sent their applications in by pointing out how they wished to adopt kids with a high likeliness of being mutants. 

It was precisely 9 months after that when the phone had rung and they got called into an orphanage to meet the twins. 

The little girl and boy had not been older than 3 months back then, left at the place with no papers, nothing to indicate their birth parents. Immediately after seeing the children, they had become besotted with them. 

That was 20 years ago, in 2005. But it's time to talk about our two mutant fathers. They are quite essential to this story we will see unfold. 

* * *

Charles Francis Xavier had been born in England, into a wealthy family. There was talk about the family being related to some aristocracy, but it didn't really matter. The Xavier home was located in the North of England with a large estate and a gigantic castle-like mansion. Charles's life could have been all luxurious elegance and glamour, but sadly happiness and love could not be bought with money. 

The elder Xavier had died when Charles was still young, and the loss did not help his mother's already existing drinking problem. Mrs. Xavier spent most of her days locked into her rooms, with plenty of alcohol to keep her company, promptly forgetting about her son. 

Charles grew up in the care of nannies and maids and cooks, most of them taking pity on the abandoned Xavier heir. 

Little Charles liked to play in the kitchens, enjoying the warmth and the heavenly smells. One of those nights when he was reading in the kitchen - after the staff had turned in for the night -, Charles had heard a commotion coming from the storage room. 

With the bravery of a 9-year-old, he went to investigate and found a little girl, roughly his age, standing there with a loaf of bread in her hands. The most amazing thing about her was her blue skin and yellow eyes, glinting in the darkness like the eyes of a cat. The little girl looked frightened, exhausted, and hungry. 

"Who are you and what are you doing in here?" he asked the girl, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

The girl didn't answer, she was looking for ways to escape like a trapped mouse. 

"It's all right, no need to worry. I will not hurt you. Are you hungry?"

The blue stranger looked at the bread in her hands and nodded, slowly.

"Come on then, I will get you something warm. What's your name? I'm Charles Francis Xavier." Charles stretched his hand out politely like he was trained to do.

The girl seemed confused by that, not knowing what to do. 

"You should shake it. That's how we say hello. Where are you from?"

"I don't really know. I was wondering if these woods for so long I don't remember where I came from. People don't like me. They throw stones. It must be because I'm different. They call me Raven."

"Well, Raven, there will be no one throwing you stones at you here. I promise that. I can... I can make the grown-ups do what I want if I try. With my mind."

Raven's yellow eyes grew as big as saucers at that. "I have special things I can do, too. Look."

In a blink of an eye, the blue girl disappeared and Charles was standing in front of his own reflection. 

"That's amazing! How can you do that?" he asked excitedly.

"I don't know, I always could. I just need to concentrate on someone I have seen before and then I just..." The brown hair turned back to red, and the white skin to blue, and in a heartbeat, the same girl was standing in front of Charles again.

"That's bloody brilliant!"

* * *

From that night, Raven lived with him in the mansion. Charles had made sure no one questioned her being there, and Raven picked a form more conforming to the others. Blonde hair, flawless white skin and brown eyes. 

As far as all the staff was concerned, Raven was Charles's little sister and had always been living with them, ever since she had been born. Charles's mother was a harder case, but at that point, her brain was a jumbled mess from alcohol already, so it wasn't that hard to plant the idea of Raven being a distant cousin living with them permanently. 

It was a win from every angle. Charles got a sister he always wanted, and Raven got a home and never had to starve again. 

They grew up together, getting into all kinds of adventures on the vast grounds of the Xavier estate. Being home-schooled and secluded from society, they had never really known anyone else apart from each other.

It was only logical that they went to the same university. Charles favored Oxford and got in with flying colors. Raven tagged along, never being the bookish girl, but Charles helped her pass her exams without any issues. 

The buzzing university life was new to both of them, so many people suddenly entering their closed bubble. Charles loved it and jumped headfirst into every social activity he could find. 

The most important lesson they learned in their new life was that they were not alone. They met countless other people with various mutations. It was certainly an eye-opening experience. 

Apart from socializing and partying, Charles found great joy in his studies. From an early age, his special abilities fascinated him, so he decided to find out their source and maybe their meaning. After 3 years of long hours spent in the library and even longer nights at various pubs, Charles graduated on the top of his class, getting his first joint-degree in genetics and psychology. 

Raven - as a good sibling - obviously teased him for the lack of stability in Charles' love life. At the age of 21, Charles lived and loved as freely as he never could back home. Realizing pretty early on that he was as interested in men as he was in women widened the horizon of his dating game. Well, to be honest, it was less date and more game. 

When Charles decided to do his Ph.D. at Harvard, he had absolutely no idea how his life would completely turn around in a matter of years. Because it was at Harvard that he met the dashing stranger who was to become the most important person in his life. 

But let's not skip ahead so much.

* * *

Let's get back to  **2025** , and to the Lehnsherr-Xavier household. The occupants were already up and running, Erik making breakfast in the kitchen while his husband was sorting through everything their kids might need at the university. 

Even though Wanda and Pietro both attended Columbia, they were adamant about staying in the dormitories to have the  _ whole college experience.  _

_ " _ It's bad enough you teach there, Dad!" Pietro exclaimed with an outraged expression when the matter first came up. "Why should we miss out on all the fun at campus? And anyway, what would be next? You giving us a lift every day because we are going to the same place? Give us a break, Dad. Of course we are not staying at home."

It was a fair point, and Charles knew it, so that put an end to that discussion.

The twins started their second year at Columbia in a matter of weeks, but they were already buzzing with excitement to go back. Pietro was learning finance and management, a surprising choice in his parent's eyes. But he seemed to enjoy it and by the end of the day, that was the only thing that mattered. Apart from studying, Pietro was on the running team. Not a surprise, since his mutation gave him super speed, something he swore he did not abuse during the competitions. And even though no one really believed that, as long as the boy kept it to a humanly possible speed, there were no issues. 

Wanda, on the other hand, chose Sociology as her major. Just like her brother, Wanda had special powers, too, but a very different kind. Back when she was younger, she liked to call herself a witch, dressed up in black robes and a pointy hat and a broom for every Halloween. She was basically telekinetic and could even fly if she concentrated hard enough. And there were times when she got really angry and could cast bolts of energy from her hands. 

Opposed to her brother, Wanda was quiet and guarded, preferred a good book to parties every time. 

On that particular morning, both Pietro and Wanda were still in their rooms, maniacally packing their suitcases for moving back to their dormitories after the summer they had spent at home. 

In Wanda's case, packing meant clothes flying around in the room to be neatly folded into one of the bags and cases on the floor, books stacking themselves up into their respective boxes. 

On Pietro's side, there was a hurricane of things flying everywhere as the boy ran around the room in his usual super speed.

_ "Children, breakfast is ready, _ " Charles shouted from the kitchen, and they both ran down.

"So, are you both packed and ready?" Erik asked the kids over a plate of eggs and toast. "If we leave early, we can get ahead of traffic. 

Pietro and Wanda exchanged a look indicating they weren't quite so done with getting ready. They should have been, but being both excellent at procrastinating, they had started late. 

"We could leave in the afternoon, love. It would be much more efficient, anyway. And we can have one last family lunch together." Charles added, with a knowing glance at his children. He could feel the relief radiating off of them. "How's that for a plan?"

Erik just rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what his husband was doing. "All right," he said with a sigh. "Honestly, son. For someone with your speed, it's quite fascinating how you still manage to be late."

Pietro just shrugged, focusing on his eggs and not even looking up.

"I need to pack strategically. I have some plans for this year," the boy said with a grin. 

On his side, Wanda gave a painful wine. "Please tell me it's about something study-related."

"I'm gonna conquer Scandinavia," Pietro said smugly into his mug of coffee.

Now it was Wanda's turn to roll her eyes. "I'm so glad now that we live on opposite sides of campus. I really don't need to hear all about your endeavors."

"You are just sour because I will be getting some and your little penpal is a thousand miles away. "

"CHILDREN!" Erik snapped, banging his fist on the table. "Let's have a quiet breakfast together as civilized people."

"Sorry, Papa," the twins grumbled in sync. 

* * *

We talked about Charles, now let's look into the life of our other father figure. Erik Magnus Lehnsherr.

He was born in  **1968** , in Dusseldorf, Germany, to a Jewish family.

For the first couple of years, they had lived a simple but happy life. However, hen Erik was 8 years old, his father died in a car accident. A drunk driver had crashed into him when he was on the way home from work, killing him on the spot. 

The now widowed Edie Lehnsherr took it on herself that her only child would have everything he needed, so she had worked 3 jobs to provide for them. She never remarried, though, so it was always just the two of them. 

Erik's school years were not a very pleasant experience for the boy. From the first days, he felt like an outsider in his class, and his mates did everything in their power to reinforce him in that feeling. He was different from them in so many ways. 

Even before Erik realized he had the ability to manipulate metal, he was mocked and bullied for being Jewish, for having ginger hair, and for not being wealthy. Adding his mutation to the list of things only made it worse. 

So Erik became gruff and moody, taking pride in his difference - his heritage, his mutation - and started to get in trouble at school for acting up.

To save his poor mother the trouble of getting called into school, Erik made sure his marks were always good and tried to stay on good terms with his teachers. Realized quickly that he could get away with a lot more that way, not to mention the promise of a scholarship good grades could get him. So he spent his days studying, running on the school tracks to keep himself in a good shape, and occasionally beating up bullies who had the misfortune of calling him some kind of slurs. 

Amidst all of that, Erik didn't really notice that he had never had a friend. Growing hard as the metal he could mold to his desire, Erik hadn't given himself the luxury of trusting anyone that way. 

**1990-1993**

His good grades paid off, though. He was 21 years old when the Berlin Wall had collapsed, signaling the end of an era. Even though his hometown was in the west, with more potential than the east part of the country, it was still no less than a miracle that he got a scholarship to none other than the prestigious Harvard University in the United States of America.

It was hard to leave his mother behind, the woman who had given up so much for Erik, but Edie reassured him that she had done everything so Erik could have this kind of opportunity. 

**1993**

So that's how Erik ended up in an Engineering program, with his broken English - even more of an outsider than he had been back at home, now not even having the comfort of his mother language, or his mother for support.

For the first years, he wasn't much more sociable than he had been in high school. Not having much time besides schoolwork and his part-time job as a mechanic to indulge in parties anyway. And the matter of any sort of relationship was not even on his mind for most of his life. 

He had his usual urges as a teenager, but hadn't given much thought to it, his mind always on the goals in front of him. An exam, an essay, a deadline. His body's needs were always secondary, so most of the time he just got rid of unwanted boners with a quick wank at night before he went to sleep. He never really thought about anything during it, either, just concentrated on reaching his peak quickly with sure hands so he could get on with his things.

And if there were some dreams about strong hands and hard chests, he simply did not give them enough mind to deal with them. Queer was a term other kids taunted him with, just another synonym of being different from the others. 

**1993**

Then Harvard happened, and suddenly sexuality was everywhere around him. So very different than his home, the States were buzzing with unblemished desire. Everyone was so much more open on this side of the ocean, and even though Erik tried his best to keep away from social events, he could not avoid people.

**1994**

It was the beginning of his second year when he was walking back to his dormitory building, planning to get a little sleep before his shift at the auto shop he worked at. That plan was ultimately challenged by one of his classmates who caught up to him as he was crossing the grounds.

"Hey, Lehnsherr!" The guy called after him, voice thick with a Russian accent.

Erik - shocked that someone would speak to him -, stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the tall man. He was wearing a long black coat, but that wasn't the most interesting feature about him. The guy's skin was red from head to toe. 

"Yes? Can I help you?" Erik asked suspiciously. 

"Maybe. I was thinking about starting a special kind of study group, and you look like someone who might be interested in it. Would you like to talk about it over coffee? My treat."

Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking the Russian guy up and down questioningly.

"Why would you think that? You don't know me."

"That's easy to change. Hi, I'm Azazel Chernov. Foreigner and mutant, and I think we have that both in common. Germany?"

Erik's eyes grew at the open at the easy nonchalance of the Russian boy. 

"Yeah. How do you know that I'm..."

Azazel just grinned and gave him a wink. "I have my secrets, just like you. And what's your trick? You do some epic stuff with metal, right?"

"I'm metalokinetic. Look, I really need to go, I have a shift at work in an hour and..."

"Okay, magnet-boy. I will catch you later."

Azazel gave one last wave before disappearing into thin air, leaving a gaping Erik behind.

Nevertheless, Erik ended up in their 'study group', which was less for actual studying and more for a weekly meetup with other mutants. For the first time in his life, Erik did not feel so alone. He met people with special gifts, from all over the world. Amazing people with various fascinating skills joined together in a slowly learning, but still ignorant world. 

It was not that much of a surprise that with Erik having more people in his life, there would be some forms of relations. 

Her name was Angel and she was an exotic beauty, with gorgeous wings on her back. She flirted with Erik from the first time they had met, and first Erik was totally clueless about what he should do, or how he should handle the situation.

With some much-needed help from Azazel, they went on a couple of dates. Angel was nice and one of his kind. A mutant, an outsider, someone who understood what it was like to be different. 

Erik enjoyed being with her, and when they finally slept together, it was a good experience. Not earth-shattering, or monumental, but nice. But in total honesty, Erik didn't really understand what the big fuss was about. 

They remained friends after they eventually broke things off, Angel telling Erik that he was a good man under all the moping.

After that one encounter, Erik went back into not giving a damn about sex and all the physical stuff. Not until one fateful night, next year, when a certain blue-eyed telepath completely turned his world upside-down, making him question everything about himself. 


	2. Back to school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Explicit rating is active, prepare for the smut! The Lehnsherr-Xavier twins move back to Columbia for their second year and we get to meet the gang. There is some rather kinky WinterHawk smut in this chapter so you've been warned :)

Helping the kids move into their dorms at Columbia was just as bittersweet as it had been last year. The buzzing thrill of the campus with excited students running around made Charles miss his own university years. But this was about Wanda and Pietro now, it was their time to explore themselves and the world around them, and honestly, Charles was very glad that they could grow-up in a much more tolerant and open time. Being a mutant was not that much of a burden now than it had beenback in his day.

Since the kids really did live on opposite ends of the campus, Charles and Erik split up to help them each. Erik went with Wanda, since the girl had more heavy luggage, boxes full of books she couldn't live without. So Erik made sure all his daughter’s stuff was packed in metal-inlaid boxes and cases, making it easy for Erik to just levitate them into her daughter's room - causing quite a commotion in the building. 

Meanwhile, Pietro made leaps after leaps from the car to his room, arms laden with his things - mostly clothes, electronics, and his favorite accessories. It didn't take that much time to transport everything he had into the cramped dorm room he shared with a guy named James Barnes. The boy wasn't there yet, so Pietro just threw everything down and went to meet up with the rest of his family.

After saying their good-byes and promising to call frequently and go home a lot, the twins made Charles promise he would act like they don't know each other if they ever met around the school grounds. 

"It's enough that we have your surname. Being the son of someone's professor is awkward enough without the constant reminder. It's a huge strain on my social life."

Wanda just snickered and elbowed his twin in the side. "Like you have any problems with that, bro. How could you be even more popular than this?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I could manage somehow. Not everyone enjoys the life of a hermit, you know."

"And this will be the moment we take our leaves." Charles interrupted in a stern voice. "Have a wonderful year, and let us know if you need anything. And try not to get into trouble that much," he added, looking at his son pointedly.

Wanda hugged both of them, but Pietro just waved impatiently, obviously excited to get out of the situation as fast as possible.

"I guess I will see you around," Wanda said before taking off in the direction of her dorm building.

After being left alone, Pietro zoomed up to his room, finding that his roommate had finally arrived. 

"Hey, man!" Pietro greeted the boy who was in the middle of dumping all his stuff on his own bed. "Had a good summer?"

James Barnes, or Bucky as most people called him, was in Pietro's year, majoring in History. He was tall and lean, with shoulder-length brown hair and grey-blue eyes. 

"Hi, Pete! It was okay, spent it like all the others before - working as life-guards on the Jersey shore with Natasha. It's easy money and the guys are hotter than the summer sun. How was yours? Anything interesting worth sharing?"

Pietro smiled and shook his head, turning to the mess he had made when he had arrived earlier. 

"Nothing extraordinary. Traveled a lot with my parents and Wanda. Visited my grandmother in Germany, Face-timed with Loki a lot. They will be back this week, and their little brother is coming with them. I think you will like him. Long blonde hair and all muscle."

Bucky whistled approvingly. From his tight jeans to his artfully applied eyeliner, the guy was gayer than the Fourth of July. 

Pietro liked his 'taking no shit from anybody' attitude, and they had even made out a couple of times when they were both drunk and there was nothing better to do. But Bucky was not a relationship kinda guy, and Pietro had soon gotten smitten with an exchange student from Sweden, named Loki. They weren't officially together yet, but Pietro was keen on changing that fact. 

"Are you still going out with Clint?" Pietro asked as he started to put his clothes away in his wardrobe. 

"We are not what you would call 'going out'. We enjoy each other's company from time to time. No need for commitments or such."

Pietro shrugged, unfolding his pink-yellow-blue flag. "Whatever floats your boat, man. Can you give me a hand with this?"

Bucky grinned at the sight of the pansexual flag. "Neat, of course. I love that we have such a gay dorm room. I'm so glad they did not pair me up with some homophobic fratboy."

"Yeah, that would have made things a bit more... harder to endure. And not in the positive, life-affirming way."

As they finished hanging up the flag, Bucky's phone beeped with a new message. He unlocked it and bit his lower lip, eyes glinting with mischief. 

"Speaking of hard things, I gotta dash. Clint's roommate will only get back next week, so the bastard has a single dorm for a while. I'm not sure if I will be back for the night, so if you have any plans..."

Pietro just shook his head and went back to sorting through his things. 

"Thanks, but I'm being a good boy. You have your fun, though."

"I will. Be bad!"

With his roommate gone, Pietro quickly finished organizing his things. When he deemed everything in order, he sat down on his bed to video-call Loki. After a couple of rings, they picked up, and Pietro was greeted by the image of Loki, raven-black hair pulled back into a bun.

"Hey, you," he managed to say, as he felt his heartbeat picking up. 

"Hi, Pete. You back at the university?" Loki's exotically accented voice did not help to calm the rapid beating of Pietro's heart.

"Just finished unpacking. Buck is already out with Clint, so everything is back to normal. You coming this week?"

"We leave on Tuesday evening and will be there on Wednesday. Probably terribly jet-lagged. But Thor is very excited to go to America. He was studying English all summer. It will be good to be back, even though I know the weather will be horrible. You Americans have terrible summers. The Sun shouldn't be allowed to be that hot."

Pietro's initial thought was that the sun had nothing on Loki in the matter of hotness, but he kept it to himself.  _ Play it cool, man. Play it cool.  _

"Yeah well, at least we have it out once in a while. But I did not call to talk about the weather."

Loki gave him a smirk, one elegant eyebrow raised expectantly. 

"Why did you call me then?"

_ To see you, to hear your voice, to tell you I miss you...  _ "To check in on you, to see you did not strangle your brother yet."

Loki gave a laugh, blue eyes glinting. "Thor is fine, only slightly more annoying than his usual self. He already looked up the sports teams he wants to join. Same old, same old."

"I told Bucky about him. He is very excited to meet Thor."

"I bet he is, but sadly for him, my little brother is as straight as they come."

"Pity for him."

There was an awkward silence, while Pietro tried to tame his still unusually wild heartbeats and Loki just stared at him with their usual half-smirk.

"I think I should go now, finish packing," Loki said finally breaking the silence. "I will see you on Wednesday."

"Yeah, sure. I will be here."  _ Waiting for you.  _ "Have a good flight!"

"Thanks. Bye, Pete."

"Bye."

As the call ended, Pietro dropped his phone on the bed and buried his burning face into his hands. He was in it so deep, it wasn't even funny. Letting out a shaky breath, Pietro picked up his phone again to open the group chat they had with their gang. 

**Quicksilver: Anyone back and wants to grab a drink?**

It didn't take long for the texts to flood in.

**Scarlet Witch: Miss me already, little brother?**

**Black Widow: I could use one, James bailed on me to have some afternoon delight with Barton.**

**Loki: Don't drink all the alcohol without me there :)**

**Quicksilver: I will be over at your building in a dash, Nat. I haven't seen you in ages anyway.**

**Black Widow: You do that, fast-boy.**

Content with the prospect of drinking his feelings, Pietro was out the door in a minute.

****

Bucky told Clint they should meet in front of his building, which was conveniently close to Bucky’s own. But before turning our attention to them, it would be only proper manners to introduce our newcomer.

James Buchanan Barnes - or Bucky, as his friends called him - was from Brooklyn and had grown up with a single mother and his best friend Natasha Romanoff. 

He had always had an interest in ancient history, probably from the first time he had seen the movie Troy. The half-naked Brad Pitt had definitely helped the case. Bucky had been about 11 years old when he had realized he found guys much more interesting than girls. 

His supportive friends and family had helped him accept that fact pretty early on in his life, which meant by the time he had finished high-school, he was more than a little experienced. 

Getting into Columbia hadn’t been easy, but Bucky had worked hard to get a scholarship, and now he was starting his second year, as a proud history major, studying the antique cultures. 

Bucky hadn’t really counted as unpopular in high-school, apart from the bone-headed jocks and other stereotypical bullies. But his social life had definitely sky-rocketed when he had gotten into university. He had met Clint pretty early on, and they had hit it off right away, oth of them wanting the same no-strings-attached maximum pleasure and minimum of bullshit ordeal. They weren't exclusive or anything like that, but enjoyed a very nice and pleasurable sort of relationship.

Bucky got to the building in question and found the blonde boy leaning against the wall, waiting for him. Clint Barton was quite good-looking, tousled blonde hair with strikingly blue eyes, strong arms and a fit build from years of archery.

"Hi there, stranger," Clint greeted Bucky with a genuine smile. "How was your summer?"

"It was okay. Yours? How was the archery camp?"

"It's always nice. I got to work on my aim. I can shoot a tin can from over a mile."

Bucky gave a smirk, looking the blonde boy up and down leisurely.

"I do enjoy the aim of your bow. Quite impressive."

Clint grinned and pulled Bucky close with a hand on his ass. "I missed you, kitten. Shall we go up?"

Bucky bit his lower lip seductively and nodded. 

Clint's dorm room was still a mess of clothes and books, but it was empty, and that's all that mattered. Without any form of niceties, Bucky found himself manhandled and pushed on the bed the moment the door was closed and locked. 

"Someone's eager. I'm all for rough-handling and the usual, but maybe we should at least get rid of our shoes?"

"Don't be such a smartass," Clint growled, but pulled off their sneakers all the same, then pounced back on the boy with renewed fervor. "I missed you."

"Me too," Bucky said, tilting his head back to give more space for Clint's talented mouth. 

His shirt was soon gone, just as Clint slowly slid down on his body to greet each of Bucky's nipples with kisses and occasional bites, making the little buds stand up to attention. 

"How many guys have you been with over the summer?" Clint whispered into Bucky's skin as he continued nipping along his hip bones. 

"Do you... why do you... I don't know... quite a few. Why?"

"Come on, give me an estimate. 10? 20?" Clint slowly slid the zipper of Bucky's shorts down, with a predatory expression. 

"Let's say... 15-ish?" Bucky managed to get out, lifting his hips so Clint could pull his pants down. 

"Such a bad little boy. Tell me, what did you do with them? Did you let them fuck you? Did they make you come as I do?"

Bucky was writhing on the bed with searing desire as Clint slowly got rid of all of his clothes while staying completely dressed. 

"A couple of them, yeah. Not all of them. Some blowjobs, some - god - some handjobs on the dancefloor at bars."

"I can imagine you, thrusting up onto some hard body in a dark club. Begging to get fucked like the little slut you are. Will you beg for me now?"

Feather-light touches on his cock made Bucky shiver with arousal. 

"Please..." he babbled and Clint closed his fist over Bucky's cock. "Please, just..."

"What? What do you need? Tell me what you want."

An order, strict and direct like a lifeline in the sea of desire. 

"Fuck me, please."

Clint took his hand away, toBucky's utter dismay. "I don't think you deserve it yet. You should earn it first, don't you think? How about... you get me off three times before I let you have your release? Three times for all the guys you have been with over the summer. And if you are being a good boy and I deem you worthy... I might let you come on my cock by the end of today."

Clint sat up, straddling Bucky's waist and pinned both of his hands above his head. "You look so pretty like this, naked and thrashing on my bed, completely at my mercy. What should I do to you first?"

"Whatever you want..." Bucky groaned, all blissed out and pliant under Clint's hold.

"Oh, I know that, little boy. Come on, I think you should work for it a little bit."

Letting go of Bucky's hands and getting off him, he moved to sit on the edge of his bed, with his thighs spread. 

"On your knees. You know what you gotta do."

Bucky stumbled up from the bed on shaky limbs and quickly got into position in between Clint's legs. 

"That's right. Looking really nice there. Now be a good boy and get me out of these uncomfortable shorts."

With nimble fingers, Bucky worked Clint's pants open and pulled them down as far they would go with him kneeling between Clint's thighs. The underwear followed, and Clint's cock sprung free. 

"Can I...?" Bucky asked politely, looking up from under his eyelashes with big, innocent eyes.

"Yes, you may."

That was all Bucky needed, leaning down and capturing the tip of Cint's leaking cock between his lips, teasing with his tongue before sliding down as far as he could. Clint's fingers found their way into Bucky's hair, running through brown locks, tugging just a little. "Good boy," Clint praised him before leaning back on his elbows, a moan erupting from his throat.

Fueled by the compliment and the voices coming from Clint, Bucky picked up the pace, switching between teasing the underside of the head and sliding all the way down so Clint could feel the tight heat of his throat convulsing.

"I'm gonna... I need to... hands behind your back and keep still."

Clint's voice was rough with arousal as he was getting closer to the edge. Bucky obeyed, holding onto one hand with the other behind his back as he relaxed his throat as best he could. Closing his eyes, he kneeled there like a statue of submission. 

"Open your eyes, look at me."

Grey eyes found blue as Clint sat up and tightened his hold in Bucky's hair, hips thrusting forward into his inviting mouth. 

Bucky took it all, only choking a little as Clint fucked his throat roughly. 

"I'm gonna.. fuck I'm close... I'm gonna come all over you, little boy."

Cint pulled out and stroked his cock a couple of times before climax washed over him and came with a shout, shooting over Bucky's waiting lips and nose and even eyelashes. Bucky stayed still with his eyes closed as he listened to Clint slowly coming down from his height. A couple of heartbeats later, he felt gentle fingers cleaning his face as best they could and he slowly opened his eyes to find Clint staring at him.

"This was... amazing. Thank you. Come up here."

Clint quickly got rid of the rest of his clothes as Bucky laid back on the bed, sprawled out on his sheets like a lazy cat.

With a little rummaging through his nightstand, Clint retrieved a small bottle of lube and a condom. Putting the little square package down for the moment, he put some lubricant on his hand.

"Remember, no coming yet. Can you be a good boy for me?" He asked as he reached down to slide his slicked-up hand over Bucky's cock with feather-light, teasing touches.

"I will... I will be... for you," Bucky managed to growl. 

"Good."

Wiping his hand on the bedspread, Clint leaned forward pinning Bucky's hands above his head, thrusting his slowly re-hardening cock against Bucky's. 

"Can't wait to be inside you again. To fuck you until you know nothing else but my name. I'm gonna make you come so hard, little boy..."

"Please," was the only thing Bucky could moan, thrashing on the bed so close to the edge he could barely hold himself back. He was almost there, just a little bit more... and that was the moment Clint closed his fist around the base of Bucky's cock to keep him from coming.

"Not yet." Moving to the side, he let go of Bucky's hands. "Turn around. Hands and knees"

Bucky rushed to obey, getting into position, head pillowed over his arms, with his ass in the air. 

"Such a good little kitten," Clint praised as he slowly glided his hands up and down his shaft to get himself hard again. Luckily, his age allowed him a short refractory period and he was soon back to full hardness. 

"What should I do to you. The possibilities are endless." 

Picking up the discarded bottle of lube, he slicked up two of his fingers again and teased them over Bucky's hole. Not penetrating yet, just caressing with barely-there touches. 

"What was the last time someone has been inside you? How tight are you?" he asked in a low voice, fingers still taunting. Clint grabbed a handful of that plush ass with his other hand to pull those perfect globes apart. "I asked you a question, I expect an answer."

"Don't... don't know... a couple of weeks ago. I guess," Bucky groaned, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Was it any good? Did you come on his cock? Did you scream his name like the filthy little slut you are?"

"Yeah, I did. Wasn't as good as you are, though. Please... just give me something..."

Draping himself over Bucky's back, the fingers of Clint's clean hand found its way into Bucky's hair, pulling his head back a bit. "I know your body, little boy. I know what you need. I'm gonna get myself off on your pretty little ass without getting inside you. You will be an obedient little kitten and keep your hands where I can see them. No touching. And after I came all over your pretty little back, I'm gonna eat you out and finger you open so I can finally fuck you. How does that sound?"

There was no answer, only a muffled moan as Bucky tried to get some friction on his cock by thrusting back at Clint.

"Will you stay put or should I spank you for misbehaving?"

Another moan, louder this time. Clint grinned and slapped the left side of Bucky's ass with a loud smack. Bucky keened and bit his hand to keep from crying out.

"Don't hold back your pretty little sounds. I like them." Another slap, harder this time. Clint rubbed the gorgeous pink skin before he slid his fingers back into Bucky's crack. 

"I missed your cute little ass over the summer. I jerked off thinking of what I will be doing with you. Tell me more about the guys you've been with."

Clint found it fascinatingly hot, imagining Bucky with other people. There was no jealousy involved. Another perk of their arrangement. Clint was having ideas about inviting more people into their bed. They did not discuss that yet, but he did want to bring it up sometimes, when they weren't in the middle of things, that was.

"What do you want to know? They were just summer flings. Nothing serious. Good to... pass the time, I guess." Bucky's voice broke off as he felt Clint's cock against his hole, not pushing in, just teasing at the rim. "I went to that new club downtown. The Kink Bar? Was nice. Hooked up with a guy in the backroom. Older."

Clint was thrusting against Bucky's lubed up crack with earnest now, imagining the boy with some dark stranger, his imagination running wild. 

"Continue. Was he any good?"

"Yeah, wasn't bad. Took me to the edge and kept me there... fucked me over a couch while other people were watching."

Now it was Clint's turn to groan from the mental image of others watching as he took Bucky apart. 

"Yeah? Did you like that? Knowing other people were seeing how good you can take cock? How much of a slut you are for it?"

"Maybe... I don't know. God, Clint, please... I need to come, let me come..."

"No. Not yet. Be a good boy and hold off."

Tethering over the edge, Clint got up on his knees, straddling Bucky's hips and stroking his own cock a couple of times before he came again, ropes of white coloring Bucky's back. His vision went completely white for a second and he had to catch himself on one outstretched arm not to fall forward. 

Boneless and content, he slowly came down from the orgasm and lay down next to the still panting boy. The bed wasn't big enough for the two of them, so he ended up halfway on him, but he didn't care. 

"Two down. One to go," he murmured into Bucky's ear before gently biting it. 

"You are one kinky bastard, Clint Barton." Bucky grumbled into the pillow. 

"Look who's talking. Mr. getting-off-on-people-watching. You are nothing vanilla either."

"Never said I was. So does that mean that you will finally fuck me now?"

Clint shook his head and chuckled into Bucky's neck. "Give me a break first, I'm not superman. Even I need some time to get myself back together before coming my brains out the third time."

Bucky ran his fingers through Clint's blonde locks. "Hey, it was your idea. Now deal with the consequences."

"I will be up and running in no time, you just wait and see."

"In the meantime, if I remember correctly, you promised me a rimjob."

Clint slapped the still sensitive skin on Bucky's ass. 

"You seem to forget who exactly is in charge here. I'm tempted to not let you come at all, for that little comment."

Bucky looked up at him from under his eyelashes, his face all mock-innocent. 

"I'm so sorry, Sir. I swear I'm gonna be good." Biting his lips for the full effect, "I promise I will behave."

"You are lucky I like to make you come. Now lift that perky little bottom up, if you want me to eat it out."

Bucky was quick to obey, putting his head back upon his folded arms. He was feeling light as a feather, like he was floating inches above the ground. Weightless and happy. 

Clint kneeled behind him, lifting Bucky's hips in the air so he could get his mouth on him. Giving his hole a little tease with the tip of his tongue first before sliding it against the tight ring of muscle.

Bucky groaned into his arms and pushed back against Clint, who reached forward with one hand, sliding two of his fingers over Bucky's lips. "Suck, little boy. Make them wet for me." Sucking the fingers into his mouth and lapping around them eagerly, Bucky felt himself getting closer and closer to the brink. 

"Please..." he started begging again, over the digits in his mouth. "Just get something in me already."

"You are lucky I can't resist your pretty little pleading."

Pulling his fingers from Bucky's mouth, Clint eased Bucky back on the bed not-so-gingerly. One wet finger tranced his already loosened hole and slid in without my restraint. 

"Oh God yes, please, yes," was all Bucky could manage to scream. 

Picking up the lube from where it fell down, Clint poured a good amount of the lubricant on his hands. 

Two fingers were a bit of a stretch, but he scissored them to stretch Bucky out thoroughly before adding a third one. Searching with them for that little bundle of nerves. When Bucky's whole body jolted like it's been electrocuted, Clint knew he found it.

"Fuck, please... I'm really going to come if you keep this up. I can't..."

Clint slid one hand under Bucky and held the base of his cock again, keeping his orgasm at bay once more. 

"No, you will not. Not without my permission." His other hand still keeping up the attack on Bucky's prostate, enjoying the broken sounds his partner made. 

"Are you ready?" he asked in a low voice. 

"So so much. Please just fuck me, please."

"Always begging so nicely. Turn around, I want to see you."

Flipping back to his back, Bucky grinned up at him, as Clint opened the condom wrapper with his clean hand and rolled it on himself, before slicking it with the remnants of lube on his hand.

"You look way too pleased with yourself, Buck."

Bucky just lifted one leg and wrapped it around Clint's waist to pull the boy closer. "I am. Come on, and rock my world."

Clint snickered at the corny line, lifted the muscled calf over his shoulder and slid in slowly. 

"Fucking finally," Bucky moaned as his head fell back from the searing ecstasy. 

Picking up a punishing pace from the first second, Clint thrust himself forward into the tight heat.

"I missed you, little boy. I missed the way you are always so tight around me. So perfect."

"I'm going to come, Clint, I can't hold it back any longer, I just can't..."

"You can, and you will, because you are a good little kitten. Look at me."

Blue eyes found grey again as Clint pounded into Bucky's prostate with every thrust of his hips. "You will only come when I say so. Soon. But not yet."

Clint knew his third orgasm was close, the tight heat of Bucky's body, the convulsing muscles around him were too much. So he pulled out - getting a frustrated wine from Bucky - tossed the condom away and with a couple of final strokes came all over Bucky's chest with a growl of his name. 

"Please, please I can't hold on anymore, I'm begging you, please.."

Clint - still shaky from the aftermath of his third orgasm - wrapped his fingers over Bucky's painfully hard cock, sliding his hand up and down on the sensitive skin as Bucky came, with a high-pitched scream of something that resembled Clint's name and a couple of jumbled obscenities. Clint stroked him through it until the oversensitivity was too much to bear. Only then did he lift his hand, wet with Bucky's come. 

"Good boy. I'm proud of you, kitten," he whispered soothingly and reached over to the nightstand for a couple of tissues. Cleaning his hand, he gently wiped Bucky off as well, the boy still limp and boneless from the force of his orgasm.

"Come back to me, Buck," Clint said gently, kissing the damp skin of Bucky's forehead.

Drowsily, Bucky opened his eyes and gave Clint a tired smile.

"That's one amazing way to start the school year."

"Indeed it is. But now we both need a shower and I will have to re-make my bed. We definitely made a mess."

"Worth it."

Clint stood up and threw Bucky a towel from his suitcase.

"No arguing on that point. Let's hit the showers. At least they will be less populated now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up with some kudos and comments if you enjoyed the chapter!


	3. Hey, stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here I am with chapter 3! All cleaned up and tidy thanks to my lovely beta <3  
> The date is 1995, Charles and Erik finally meet and the sparks fly instantly!

The house felt so empty and quiet with the twins gone. There was no music coming from Wanda's room, nor the whirlwind of Pietro running around. It was calm. 

"It's weird having such an empty house again," Charles commented as they got back home from dropping off the kids. 

Heading straight to the kitchen to make some tea, he stopped in front of the fridge. There were countless pictures on the front, held there by magnets. Photographs from their life together. The twins in their school uniform on the first day of school, one from their vacation in Italy, where Erik had tried to steer the boat down a Venice canal with his powers. Wanda and Pietro in their prom outfits, smiling at the camera with so much hope and joy in their eyes. One they had taken last year when they had left for uni for the first time. 

"Hey, are you all right? I don't hear the kettle boiling, and you've been gone for a while."

Erik appeared in the doorway, stepping behind Charles as he found him staring at the pictures. 

"Liebling, what's the matter?" Erik asked gently, wrapping his arms around his husband's waist. 

"Nothing. They grew up so quickly. They were these little toddlers running around the house yesterday. And now they are off to live their own lives, like grown-ups. They are 20 years old. When did this happen?"

Erik smiled at him gently, hugging Charles close to his chest. 

"Probably the same time we got old. Soon they will have their own children, their own family, and we will be proud grandparents."

Charles shrugged and looked back at Erik with shock in his eyes. 

"No, don't say things like that! I'm not ready to be a grandfather yet. And we are not old. Slightly middle-aged, maybe."

"You don't look a day older than 40, Schatz. And I still think you look just as gorgeous as the day we first met."

Charles snickered at that, hiding his face in his hand. "Oh my god, I was horrible. I have no idea what you saw in me, I was such a terrible slut back then."

Erik grinned and leaned down to capture Charles' lips with a kiss. "You were adorable."

* * *

It was the end of October  **1995,** the leaves falling with every gust of the icy wind. Every frat-house and every community building was decorated for Halloween at the Harvard campus in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

As a born and raised Englishman, Charles could not understand why the Americans named their university town after the well-known English one. Just how he could not come to terms with the utter ignorance of the metric system. 

It was his first year in the States, doing his Ph.D. at the prestigious University of Harvard. He had nothing against the American people, per se, he enjoyed their parties just as much as those back home. The little things still got him, though, the right-hand traffic, the temperatures in Fahrenheit, pounds, gallons and ounces. 

Raven made fun of his fussing. His sister came with him to Harward, and enrolled in an art program. Charles was sure she just didn't want to stay at home alone, and he understood. The mansion was full of memories and ghosts, and Charles did not blame Raven for wanting to stay away. And he welcomed her presence, anyway. For Charles, Raven was home wherever they would be in the world.

"Soooo, where are we going tonight, darling brother?"

Charles looked up from his garderobe, where he was rummaging through his clothes to decide on something to wear. When he saw Raven in the door, he just shrugged.

"I don't know yet. Do you have any specific plans?"

Raven just dropped herself in an armchair dramatically and shook her head. "Not really. I mean, Azazel tries to get me to his party, and it's as good as any. But that cheeky Russian can wait and not take me for granted. So I came here to my dearest brother to ask him about his plans."

Charles finally decided on a shirt and some black pants and started to change, without bother. They were way beyond that with Raven, to care about these kinds of things.

"That Azazel is bad news, I already told you," he said disapprovingly. 

"Yeah, I will not take relationship advice from the biggest slut on campus. You really put the D in Ph.D."

Charles gave his sister a look that was supposed to be menacing, but since he was half-naked it did not really have that effect. 

"Shut up. You are still my little sister, and I should take care of you."

"I manage to do that myself. So back to the point, do you have any plans?"

Charles shrugged. He had made some friends since they had arrived a bit over a month ago, but there was nothing fixed for the night.

"We could go to Azazel's party if you want to. At least I can keep an eye on you there."

"Like that's usually what you do at parties. But okay. Next question. What are we going as? Because I can get myself ready in a second, but you don't have that little perk."

Charles put on a shirt and a brown vest, accessorized with dark-rimmed glasses. 

"Isn't it obvious? I'm Allen Ginsberg. When he was young, obviously."

Raven rolled her eyes in disbelief. "You know the true wonder is how you get laid so often while being such an amazing dork."

Charles winked at her, before opening the little cupboard above his desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

"Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on Saturday night."

Raven snickered while trying to decide on a nail polish color by transforming her nails over and over again. 

"Who said that?"

"Woody Allen. But it's still true. And I know my assets." 

"You certainly can be such an ass, that I agree on. But let's put that aside now, and pour me a drink."

"As the fair lady commands."

It was well over 10 PM when they left Charles's apartment, and by that time they were more than pleasantly buzzed. The night was cold on their flushed skin as they stumbled through the lawn. 

"So where is this party your devil of a friend is holding?" Charles asked, trying to walk in a straight line and failing miserably.

"He might look like one, but he is not a devil. And it's in their community house. They have that Mutant and Proud fraternity thing going on, I told you about it."

Charles sighed with a shake of his head. "I remember. I still don't know why they are proud of being mutants. It's not an accomplishment, it's a given fact. Like being proud of having brown eyes. It's genetics. I have a study on that. Multi...ple. Multiple studies." 

"And you are already shitfaced. Way to make an entrance. Please don't open with that line, though."

Charles gave his sister a tap on the shoulder to encourage her. "Don't you worry. I will be a gentlefect... a perfman... a perfect gentleman."

Raven just rolled her eyes at him. "No, I think I will just pretend I do not know you for the rest of the night."

By the time Charles and Raven got to the party, it was in it's full-blown, so Charles threw himself into the throng of students on the dance floor. He loved the carelessness that came with getting intoxicated. The ever-present voices in his mind were shushed to a barely-there presence and nothing mattered anymore but the rhythm of the music. He lost himself in the feeling, like he was floating above the ground. 

There were people around him, next to him, plastered on him at some points, and he danced with them, against them not even looking up to see their faces. It didn't matter. 

Charles did not know how much time had passed, but suddenly he felt terribly thirsty. He stumbled out from the sweaty mess of people and went in search of the kitchen. He found it rather easily - most people tended to linger in the kitchen in every party. 

"God, it's hot in here," he said to no one in particular, as he wiped his temple. "Or is it just me?"

"Well, you might be a bit overdressed."

Charles looked in the direction of the voice addressing him, and found a tall, quite a handsome guy leaning against the kitchen counter, with a beer in his hand. The man was wearing a black turtleneck, with similarly dark-washed jeans. He was looking at Charles like he found him fascinating. 

"Oh, do you want me to take them off? That can be arranged." Charles stepped closer to the stranger, skimming over his mind out of habit, but found it closed and guarded. Oh, now that was interesting.

Erik looked away, staring at the bottle in his hand, but he got slightly pink from that comment.

"I would rather not answer that question, if you don't mind."

"Alright, I will go easy on you. So what are you dressed as? Bruce Wayne undercover? Or are you just Tall Dark and Handsome on a regular basis?"

The guy looked puzzled, so Charles jumped to the conclusion of his reference not being understood.

"Anyway, I am Charles. Xavier. Soon to be Dr. Xavier, if all goes well."

Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome was still scowling, but he gave his hand.

"Erik Lehnsherr."

Charles took the hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Erik. So what's your... field of expertise?"

"Physics and engineering."

"Oh, fancy. I'm writing my dissertation on the human genome and its possible mutations. If you are here, I guess you are a mutant too, right?"

Erik gave him a wary look and lifted an eyebrow. "Yes, I am. Is there a problem with that?" 

Charles noticed how the metal appliances in the kitchen started to slightly vibrate at that. 

"Of course not, silly. I'm one as well. Are you doing that? What's your trick? Telekinesis?"

Erik's features softened and he lifted a fork from the rack beside the sink. 

"Metalokinesis. I manipulate the magnetic fields."

"Wicked!"

Erik put the fork down and turned back to Charles. 

"Let me ask you something now. Are you always this flirty with complete strangers?"

Charles just winked at him before answering. "Just the cute ones. Anyway, I just thought you should know... I could help you integrate into this brave new world. We foreigners should stick together. Where are you from?"

Even though Erik's frown softened, he still stared at Charles with contemplation. 

"Düsseldorf, Germany. Is my accent still so bad? I've been here for years now, I thought I got rid of it."

Charles opened the fridge before answering, looking for something to drink. Sadly there was nothing inside but cheap beer. Bugger. It had to do.

Opening a bottle and turning back to Erik, he gave the guy a good look-over. He probably wasn't in a costume, now that he thought it over.

"Oh, it's not that bad, actually. I would never make fun of anyone with broken English. It means they know more than one language, and that's a wonderful feature." He took a swig from his beer, scrunching his face up from the bitter taste. "Blimey, this is awful. So are you supposed to be dressed as someone I don't recognize, or...?" Charles pointed vaguely at Erik's attire.

"I don't like this whole costume thing." Ah, as Charles thought. "Why would you pretend to be someone you are not?" Erik said gruffly, his face hardening into a scowl again.

Charles couldn't believe this guy. He was an enigma all wrapped up in a very gorgeous package. Talking about a gorgeous package... Charles' gaze wandered down, and he wasn't subtle about it. He did appreciate what he saw. 

"It's fun. You do know what fun is, right?" Charles tried to skim over Erik's mind again but found it still closed to his powers. 

"Yes, I am familiar with the expression. I just don't really enjoy this particular kind of recreation."

It was Erik's time to look Charles up and down, gaze traveling down his body in a lazy and contemplative way.

"I told you about me, now it's your turn. You are English, that much I hear. Charles Xavier, you sad? What's your mutation?"

Charles nodded vigorously, but it made him dizzy, so he stopped. "Correct, I am English to the very core. You got an A+! I was going to Oxford, but Harward has better opportunities for my research. And I am a telepath."

Erik lifted a brow in interest. "I had only met one telepath before, Emma. And about your research - you are studying the mutant genome?"

"Totally. I would very much love to tell you all about it when I'm not this piss-ass drunk. Do you have a phone number or pager or somewhere I can reach you?"

With a little fumbling, Charles fished his phone out from his pocket, which earned him a dumbstruck expression from Erik.

"You have a cellphone?"

Charles shrugged and punched some buttons on the phone to open the address book. 

"Yeah, it's kinda new, I'm not so good at using it yet. Which dorm are you living in? I could call the landline and ask for your room?"

Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest like he tried to guess Charles's intentions but wasn't sure.

"You can reach me by calling Azazel. He has one of those ridiculously overpriced devices, too." 

Charles nodded and put his phone away. "Oh, cool. I'm sure my sister has his number. They have something going on, which I'm not sure I approve of."

For the fourth - or fifth, Charles was too drunk to count - time, Erik's expression changed again. 

"You are Raven's brother? The shapeshifter Raven? She never talked about having a mutant brother, we would have gotten in touch with you sooner. Invite you to join the Brotherhood. We could use someone with your abilities. I mean, Emma is all right, but..."

"I know about your little study group, and I'm not sure I agree with all your ideas, but now is not the time for us to discuss this."

Charles took another swing of the terrible beer and patted Erik on the shoulder. 

"I'm gonna head back to that dance floor now and try to find someone half-decent to pass this night with. But we will pick this conversation up again. When I'm a bit more sober."

With a last meaningful look at Erik, Charles left the kitchen on wobbly legs.

Erik looked after the guy as he retreated back into the crowd. Something was fascinating about him, and Erik could not put his finger on it. He was obviously flirting with Erik, and that was a brave thing to do with a complete stranger. Erik had heard terrible stories of the violent attacks against queer people. Back in Germany, someone could get his head kicked in for glancing at someone in the wrong way. Erik had to give it to Charles, he had the balls to be so direct. 

Maybe the States weren't Germany, but different was still a very dangerous thing to be. Erik knew what it felt like to be mocked, and to be looked down on for standing out of line. 

Erik never really thought about fancying his own gender. He had some fuzzy memories about certain dreams back when he was a teenager, but frankly, he had different things on his mind back then. Queer was just a swearword for being different, and he was already considered a "freak" for being a mutant. 

Erik shook his head to clear it and finished off his beer. It was time to head back to his dorm, it was getting late. He could always get in touch with this Charles Xavier through his sister. 

  
  


* * *

It wasn't for a couple of days that Erik met Charles again. He was sitting in the Junior Common Room, working on an essay and paying half-attention to the television on the other side of the room. He was just looking something up in the weighty physics textbook, when he felt the couch sink in next to him, as someone sat down. 

"Look who it is. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. It's Erik, right?"

Erik looked up and found himself face to face with one Charles Xavier, the Englishman grinning at him from above a steaming cup of tea. 

"Right. I'm surprised you still remember anything from that night. You weren't exactly sober."

Charles groaned, hiding his face behind his hand. "Oh my God, don't even remind me. That beer was terrible. Thank god I was already drunk on my favorite scotch. What are you working on?"

Erik closed his book, but not before marking his progress. "Just some assignment."

Charles looked at the huge volume in front of him. "Physics For Scientists And Engineers? That seems... interesting."

Erik furrowed his brow but did not answer. Instead, he put the book and his papers back into his messenger bag. 

"Yeah. I checked out some on Quantum Mechanics as well, if you are interested."

"I will pass. I'm more into psychology and genetics. I leave the physical part to you. If you know what I mean," Charles said with a wink. 

Erik could not answer that, feeling his face heating up at the blatant flirting. "How are you...? How are you so bold and blunt in the middle of the common room with a practical stranger? I could be some homophobic asshole who kicks your head in for hitting on me."

Charles tipped his head to the side like he was watching something exceptionally adorable. "Are you, though?"

"Of course not. But that's not my point. I could have been. You did not know that."

"Are you always this overprotective with a practical stranger?" Charles asked with a sly smile. 

"I just don't want to see anyone get hurt because of being different. I’ve heard about some terrible stories and you should be more careful, is all I’m saying."

"You are sweet, but I can take care of myself. A powerful telepath, remember? That reminds me, I have to admit I tried to skim over your mind when we first met. Sorry, I tend to do that when I'm drunk, I can't really control my abilities. But the thing is. I could not get behind your walls. Never met anyone who could do that."

Erik looked at him thoughtfully, confusion and fascination mixed on his handsome features. 

"What do you mean you couldn't get past my walls? What were you trying to do?"

"Nothing personal or deep, I swear. Just the surface, to get a picture of the person I'm talking to. It's mostly a habit. You did not do it on purpose, then?"

"Absolutely not. I have no idea how to do that. There is Emma, who has some kind of psychic powers, but she never told me if she has ever tried them on me."

Charles sipped from his tea, thinking about the question at hand. "I like the challenge."

  
  


Half an hour later, they were sitting in a coffee shop, Erik nursing a huge latte, while Charles was on his second cup of tea. 

"Look, all I'm saying is, taking pride in something that is a given, is unfortunate. Like being proud of having brown hair or blue eyes. It's pure genetics, just like our mutations."

"It may be a given, it may be a fact, but there is no discrimination against blue-eyed people. Or blondes for that matter. But people are still wary of us because we are different from them. And that's why it's important that we stand up against them."

Charles sighed, and to do something with his hand, he stirred his tea. Even though he did not agree with Erik's views, he saw where he was coming from. Over the course of their short-lived acquaintance, he found out that Erik was sharp-witted and overall interesting to talk to. 

"I get that, I really do. People usually run in the other direction when they hear about my abilities. And I'm lucky because I can hide them, but some of us can't. I just think that if we show that we are different, they will find us even more dangerous. Instead of our differences, we should focus on our similarities, to show them we mean no harm."

"That's the typical naivety of your English upper-class." Erik scoffed. "Thinking they would ever accept us. They won't. Society will always fear the unknown, the different, the stranger. It will always try to destroy what it fears." Erik looked away, before adding. "I'm Jewish, and I come from Germany. You know your history. Make the connection."

Charles felt himself getting flustered, and he swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to that. He understood, of course he did. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I see where you are coming from. How about I buy you hot cocoa or something to make it up to you?"

The blue-eyed man had such a sincere expression, Erik could not keep himself from smiling. Something inside him made him all kinds of crazy around the guy. He could not understand it. 

"Okay. But I'm not angry at you, you couldn't have known. We are not to blame for the way of our upbringing. We just come from different worlds."

As Charles went to buy them hot cocoa, Erik just looked after him, and couldn't stop himself from wondering. He was a preppy little English boy, with blue eyes that seemed a little too big, but Erik felt a strong pull, an affinity that had nothing to do with his powers. 

Apart from Azazel, Erik had never really had a friend. And the Russian boy only shared his views on most topics, never really challenged him, or argued with him. Erik found he really loved to talk with Charles. Regardless of, or more likely exactly due to the fact that they did not see eye to eye in most questions. And as much as he liked Azazel and was grateful for the guy and his friendship - the Russian wasn't a very smart man. Not like Charles was. Witty and intelligent, and passionate about his research.

It must have been that. Erik was probably just yearning for someone who matched his own intelligence. And now he found this dorky postgrad English boy, who wore huge scarves and kept flirting with him like it was as natural as breathing. Even though Erik was showing no signs of interest. Well, truth to be told, he did not rebuke the guy, either. Maybe he should have, because he obviously wasn't that kind of guy. He never thought of himself as such. Had that thing with Angel and all. So he really should have told Charles that he wasn't interested in him that way. But somehow, he could not get himself to do it. 

"Sorry, the queue was terrible," Charles came back with two steaming mugs of cocoa and a smile so bright it made something unleash in Erik's stomach.

"It's all right."

"So tell me more about yourself. You grew up in Düsseldorf, right? When did you move to the States?" Charles looked at him with honest interest in those obscenely blue eyes, and for a moment, Erik could not look away.

"A couple of years ago. I have a scholarship and a study visa that makes me able to live and study here. I have always been a good student, had nothing better to do. No one wanted to hang with the freak mutey from the broke side of the city. So I worked hard to show them I could do it. It paid off, and I'm here."

"I'm glad it did." If he meant to refer to the opportunities Harward had to offer, or to the fact that this way they had been able to meet, was unclear. 

"I work part-time at a mechanic not far from here. I always had my way around the engines. Metal... talks to me, probably on a subatomic level. I feel it. In my veins, and bones and everywhere. I wish I could show you how it feels."

Charles took a sip from his drink. "Well, there is a way you can. If you would let me try," he said after short consideration. "I couldn't read you last time, but to be honest, I was drunk out of my mind, so that doesn't really matter. Can I..." Charles lifted two fingers to his temple and looked at Erik questioningly.

Erik froze, staring at Charles with confusion and a bit of fear.

"You mean... you wanna... get inside my head?"

"Only the surface and only if you let me."

Charles sounded so sincere, Erik felt like he couldn't say no to those blue eyes. "Okay. Will it hurt?"

"It won't, I swear." Charles touched his fingers to his temple, closed his eyes and reached out with his mind to find Erik's psyche in the crowd around them. It was easy to single it out, a little island of calm in the cacophony of noise. He slowly entered his mind like he was petting a scared animal shying away from his touch.

" _ Your mind is a beautiful place. I never have seen such an order before. Show me whatever you want to, I'm here." _

Erik was completely blown away. Charles's voice in his mind was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was calming, but at the same time exciting to feel the telepath's presence. Erik closed his eyes and reached out with his powers, feeling all the metal in the place. Utensils, tables, furniture, keys in people's pockets, the metal in the rims of their glasses. Reaching beyond, stretching out his ability to the street, the familiar feeling of cars everywhere. 

" _ You were right, this is amazing. I can feel it. The coolness of the metal, the warmth of the machines. It's out of this world." _

Erik couldn't help his mind going back to their first meeting, Charles in that ridiculous sweater-vest combo, piss-ass drunk and coming onto him like it was never going out of fashion. 

_ "Sorry about that. I had a lot to drink on Halloween, and I never know how to behave when I’m drunk. I hope I did not make you too uncomfortable." _

" _ It's not that. It was just unusual. Never met anyone who was so open and brave about his... difference. If you don't mind me asking... are you... queer?" _

" _ I never made a fuss about it. And aren't we all? I mean being a mutant, we are all different in a way. But to answer your question, I just find both men and women beautiful. I'm bisexual." _

" _ That's... that's nice. I mean I never really... met anyone who was queer. It was such a taboo thing back in Germany. The word itself was mostly used as a swear word or just a slur." _

Charles could feel the confusion in Erik's mind like he had no idea what to think about all of this. Charles was considerate enough not to look deeper, even if he was eager to know more about this guarded and gorgeous man. But he did not give permission to go further, so he stayed on the surface of Erik's mind. 

Charles opened his eyes and put his hand down, extracting himself from that wonderful psyche even if it physically hurt him to leave. 

"Thank you for letting me in. I meant what I said, your mind is a wonderful place. Such order, such discipline for someone your age. And your gift is amazing."

Erik felt his chest tightening as he looked into those cerulean eyes. Suddenly everything felt too much, and he started to panic. 

"I need to go. My essay is due tomorrow morning and I need to finish it. I guess I will see you around?"

Charles just smiled at him and nodded. "You can count on that."

With a last look over his shoulder, Erik went out into the night.


	4. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 2025, the school year really starts for the gang. Pietro and Loki go on their first date.

As September rolled around, the school-year truly started. The last students had arrived at the end of August, Loki and their brother Thor among them. 

Pietro, of course, was thrilled to have Loki back, and Bucky was very keen on meeting their brother. They planned to meet up in front of the main building, to take advantage of the last days of summer. 

Most of their gang was already lounging on the grass when Pietro and Bucky arrived - the former could never get ready on time, despite his super-speed. And he had taken even more time than usual today, because he had not been able to decide on what to wear. With the help of Bucky, he had finally chosen a black Pink Floyd T-shirt and silver-grey shorts, with his usual goggles on top of his silver-blonde hair. 

"I'm sure they already fancy you no matter what you are wearing. Quit the fussing, you are being a drama queen," Bucky teased him as they walked through the lawn. 

"Look who is talking. And anyway I more than fancy them. I want to impress them."

"I know more about in-pressing than impressing, but I'm sure you look just fine," Bucky snorted, which earned him a lightning-fast slap on the back of his head.

"Yes, I'm quite familiar with your knowledge on the matter. Neither you nor Clint have a filter on it."

"Why filter perfection?"

Pietro just shrugged. "Honestly, you are such a slut sometimes. Not that there is a problem with it, it’s just an observation."

Bucky lifted one of his eyebrows and threw his hair back. "Oh, I really don't mind being called that," he said with a wink.

"And sadly, I know that too."

Wanda was chatting with Natasha when the boys arrived. She just looked at her twin and then rolled her eyes.

"Look who has finally graced us with his presence."

Pietro didn't even bother to reply, his focus was completely elsewhere. Loki was lying in the grass on their back, wearing a long green summer dress and round golden sunglasses. When they saw Pietro and Bucky arrive they swiftly sat up and pushed their sunglasses up.

"Hey there, boys. Long time no see."

Pietro stared at them completely transfixed, like he was stuck to the ground. His heart was beating like crazy, and his throat was convulsing. Time seemed to stop, like when he was running at super-speed, but this time he stood in place.

Bucky came to his roommate's help, shaking the boy out of his trance.

"Earth to Pietro, do you copy?"

As if coming out of the water, Pietro shook his head and took a deep breath. 

"Yeah, hi, sorry. I zoned out a bit. It's... good to see you again."

Loki smiled at him like a lazy cat, like someone who knows exactly what they are doing. "Likewise, Pete. Nice shirt. You wanna join me here or are you planning to stand there all afternoon?" 

That was enough for Pietro to get himself together and rush over to Loki, plunging down next to him in a dash.

"You had a good trip?" He asked, smiling. 

Loki put their sunglasses back on and leaned back, signaling for Pietro to join, so the boy quickly lay down next to them.

"It was alright. I am still a bit jet-lagged, though. But I'm happy to be back."

"Yeah, me too," Pietro said before he could stop himself. _Get a grip, man -_ he told himself, but Loki was just grinning at him.

"That's always good to hear," Loki turned to their side and pushed the glasses down their nose. "Hey, Pete?"

"Hm?" 

"Just so you know, if you happened to ask me out on a date, I wouldn't say no."

Pietro gasped like a fish out of water, eyes big as saucers. "I'm... You... Do you wanna... coffee?"

Loki just kept on grinning and reached out to run their fingers through Pietro's silver locks. "Yeah. That would be nice. How's tomorrow afternoon for you? Around 2 PM? There is that comfy little coffee shop just off campus I always wanted to try. I still can't stomach the watery stuff you Americans call coffee."

Pietro slowly came back to his senses and nodded so fast his head became a silver blur. "Yeah totally, I mean sure, I mean if you want to," he stumbled on his words. 

"Pete?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to breathe."

"Yeah."

"Good." 

With that said, Loki went back to sunbathing but reached out to intertwine their fingers with Pietro's. 

A bit off from them, Bucky was eyeing up one of the newcomers, presumably Loki's brother. The guy was huge, with long blonde hair and muscles like watermelons on his long arms. 

"You must be Thor, right? Loki's brother?" Bucky asked in his best nonchalant tone, while he took in all that delicious muscle.

"I have the misfortune to be, yes," Thor said in a deep, heavily accented voice. "And you are?"

"James Barnes, but just call me Bucky. Everyone does. Everyone who matters, anyway. 

"Nice to meet you." 

Thor was all polite smiles as he shook hands with Bucky, but Natasha just looked at her best friend in a very judgemental way.

"Stop that, James."

Bucky looked at her with a scandalized expression.

"What do you mean? Can't I say hello to our new friend? What kind of picture would that paint of our hospitality? He is a guest in this country, it's on us to make his stay the most... enjoyable."

"I said stop that. And you know exactly what I'm referring to."

"You are such a spoilsport," Bucky groaned but stopped eyeing up the Scandinavian guy like he was some sort of very exquisite dessert. Thor, of course, understood nothing of the whole exchange. 

"Is this some kind of American thing I'm not getting yet? Loki, is this something I should know?"

Loki looked up, their gaze alternating between the hungry look on Bucky's face and their brother's confused expression, and just sighed, before lying back.

"It's nothing. Barnes just wants to get in your pants. But there is no news in that. He does that with every guy on campus."

Thor just looked even more out of his depth. "Why would he want to get in my pants? He has his own, and I don't think we are the same size, anyway."

Bucky was cracking up, and the others couldn't suppress a smile either. 

"It's just an expression, it means he wants to have sex with you." It was Wanda who helped the guy out with a kind smile. "And you are all horrible people for laughing at him and his broken English. He just arrived from a different country! Cut the poor guy some slack."

"Thank you, Mother Theresa," Clint said ironically from the other side of Bucky. "So what field are you playing on?" He asked, with eyes glinting with mirth.

"Oh, I really wanna try out for the football team. I always liked your American football. They say I would be good at it, I have the build or something."

Regardless of the warning glance from Wanda, most of the gang burst out laughing.

"What now?" Thor started to get annoyed by being the butt of the joke.

"You all should be ashamed of your behavior," Wanda looked honestly angry now, red sparks starting to erupt from the tip of her fingers. “Honestly, I don't even know why I'm friends with you all."

All eyes turned to Wanda, who was fuming now, red flashes surrounding her.

"Sis, calm down. No need for a display of power. We were just having fun." Pietro tried to reason with his twin sister. "You know how Dad doesn't like it when you mess with reality just because you get pissed."

"That happened ONCE, and I'm much better at controlling it now." The scarlet sparks faded, but Wanda still looked at them angrily.

It was Natasha who broke the uncomfortable silence. "Oh, girl, that was hot as hell. I tend to forget how powerful you are until you just suddenly erupt massive energies from your fingers. Amazing."

The others didn't look very shaken by the events, most of them already accustomed to the Lehsherr-Xavier's special abilities. Thor, of course, remained just as puzzled.

"Thank you for standing up for me, lovely lady. But would someone be so kind as to tell me what the hell is going on?"

All calm and composed now, Wanda gave the boy a warm smile. "They were asking about your preferences. You know, sexual orientation and such? But you don't have to answer that rather invasive question if you don't want to. It was a terribly mean thing to ask someone on their first meeting. As for my thing, well I'm a mutant. Just like my twin over there," she nodded at Pietro. "And our fathers. It's a genetic thing, you probably heard about it before. It's a very common issue these days."

Thor slowly nodded at everything Wanda said. "Yeah, we have mutants at home, too. There were some at our old high school. It's cool. As to the other question, I would rather not answer that right now, if you don’t mind."

"Absolutely not," Wanda affirmed, smiling gently. 

Bucky and Clint just shrugged, while Natasha still eyed the other redhead with growing hunger in her eyes.

***

The next day, Pietro woke up early in the morning. For a while, he just lay in bed, listening to the quiet snores coming from the other side of the room, where Bucky and Clint lay tangled together. Pietro had left the room to them last night, opting to stay out with Loki and their other friends before Bucky had sent him a text that the coast was clear. 

It was their first "official" date today, and even though they had spent most of yesterday together, Pietro still had butterflies in his stomach from the idea. He didn't want to screw this up. He had never felt like this before, and he was afraid of saying or doing something that would blow his chances or mess things up. 

As he lay there, in the dim light of the morning sun coming through the curtains, he did something he hadn't done for a long while. He closed his eyes and thought of Charles, opening the mental link to his father that had been blocked by Pietro himself, many years ago.

_"Dad, are you up? Are you there?"_

Charles's answer was immediate and a little worried.

_"Pete? What's wrong, son? Has something happened?"_

_"Nothing bad. I could use your advice, though. I have a date today. With Loki. I think I really like them."_

" _That's wonderful, darling."_ Charles's mental voice was calm and soothing, caressing gently over Pietro's turbulent consciousness.

" _But what if I mess things up? I mean, they are amazing, exotic and all kinds of cool, and I'm just a dorky mutant kid whose only quirk is being faster than light."_

" _Pietro, darling, you are so much more than that. You_ _are kind and considerate. You are smart enough to get into your first choice of university. You had finished your first year there with top grades. Erik and I are both so proud of you. It's completely normal that you are afraid. I know how long you've been waiting for this. But everything will be alright."_

" _How are you so sure about that? I can only think about all the things that could go wrong."_

_"That's common enough. But just be your charming self. Loki already wants to spend time with you, I'm sure they are just as nervous as you are."_

" _It was their idea. I completely shut down in their presence, I always make a fool of myself. But somehow, they still want me around. I probably don't deserve them at all."_

Pietro felt his father's kind smile radiating through their link and it was almost like he hugged him from far away.

" _Do you want to talk to Erik? I can get him for you if you would like."_

Pietro nodded and thought, _"yes, please."_ And soon, there was a new voice in his mind.

_"Hey there, kiddo. What's the matter?"_

" _I have a date with someone I don't think I deserve. Because they are too good for me."_

_"Oh, you are truly my son. I still don't know what I have done in my life that made me worthy of your Dad. But here we are, nevertheless. What I'm saying is, it's gonna be alright, Son."_

Pietro shook his head to clear his mind, wiped his eyes and sat up quietly.

_"Thanks, both of you. I should get going now, I need to get ready. I will talk to you later._

" _The best of luck for today, sweetie!_ " Charles's voice came through with the sensation of a kiss on Pietro's forehead before the connection was broken, as his parents retreated from his mind. 

Quietly, so he won't disturb the boys on the other bed, Pietro collected his things and went out in search of a long shower. 

***

A little bit before 1 PM, Pietro was zooming up and down in their dorm room. He had already showered twice, had changed 3 times, and had rearranged his entire side of the room. 

"Pete, for fuck's sake, you are giving me a headache," Bucky groaned, looking up from his laptop. "Just go already before you hurt yourself."

Pietro didn't even spare his roommate a glare, as he tried to tame his silver hair into submission in front of their full-body mirror. He finally decided on a dress shirt Charles had bought him once, with deep green slacks. 

"You know it's like 90 degrees out there, right? You will boil in those, just saying. And while sweat might be sexy in some situations, it's not when you are fully dressed," Bucky commented as he gave Pietro a look-over. "Just roll your sleeves up and go for shorts. It's not like you are meeting the President."

"No, I'm meeting Loki, which is much more important,” Pietro protested, then looked himself over and sighed deeply “It pains me to say, but you are right."

In a blur of grey, Pietro was now dressed in purple shorts. "What do you think?"

Bucky sighed exasperatedly before nodding. "Better. Now, go already. And I expect an invitation to the wedding. I plan to tell this story and embarrass you in front of everyone."

"Shut up. I will get back to you when the unimaginable happens and you fall for someone."

Bucky just snorted and waved dismissively. "Oh, please. Like that will ever happen."

***

Pietro was early for once. He arrived at the coffee shop with a good twenty minutes to spare, so he ordered an americano and sat down next to the window. His mind was still running a mile a minute, but he tried to keep his cool by scrolling through social media. He found an event invitation on Facebook, for a semester launch party at the Alpha Delta Pi house organized by one Tony Stark. He RSVP-ed "Interested" and then put his phone away as he spotted Loki turning around the corner. 

Checking his reflection for the last time in the window, he stood up and waved, so Loki could find him more easily. Pietro's palms were sweating and he silently praised his roommate for talking him out of wearing warmer clothes.

"Hey, there! You are early!" Pietro greeted them with a shaky smile and a rapidly beating heart.

Loki was wearing emerald-green shorts with a black shirt, with their long black hair down, spreading over their shoulders elegantly.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one. This must be a first, the one and only Quicksilver finally on time. What happened?" 

Loki's smile showed they already knew the answer to that question, but enjoyed teasing Pietro way too much.

"You," was all Pietro could blurt out, before stopping himself. "I mean you look nice. Can I get you something?"

"You are a sight for sore eyes as well. And thank you, I would appreciate an espresso. Black."

Loki sat down at the table, crossing their long legs. 

"Coming right up."

The line wasn't so bad, so it only took about 5 minutes for Pietro to acquire the coffee and get back. His heart was still in his throat, but he was relatively calmer now that they were here together.

"One black espresso, as ordered," Pietro said with a flourish as he put the cup down in front of Loki.

"Thank you."

Pietro sat back down across from Loki and picked up his own cup again, to do something with his hands. 

"So did you settle in? Roommate not so terrible?"

"He is fine. More often out than in, so it's bearable. My beefcake of a brother had already signed up for every sports team he could find, so I say he will fit in just as well with the jocks."

"Yeah, probably."

Some more awkward silence followed, during which Pietro downed the remnants of his drink. 

"Pete, even though I really enjoy all this flustered awkwardness you are so obviously radiating... relax. I proposed this date because I really like you."

Pietro felt his face heating up at that, hands fidgeting with his empty cup. When he looked up at Loki, they were smiling at him. Not the usual smirk of mischief, but a real, genuine smile. 

"I... really like you too, but I guess that's obvious. From the first time I saw you, I was doomed. I never thought I could feel like this for someone, but here I am. And I know I make an utter fool of myself all the time, but it's just, I'm still so dumbstruck you chose to be here with me."

Loki reached across the table to pick up Pietro's hand and intertwine their fingers. 

"It's all right. I always found your stumbling awkwardness really cute. Just like you." Loki's thumb slowly slid over the back of Pietro's hand to draw patterns and circles on it with an absentminded smile.

"Can I..." Swallowing hard, Pete finally asked what had been on his mind for half a year now. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," Loki answered, their smile widening, as they stood up and leaned over the little table. "Yes, you can."

Meeting them halfway, Pietro pressed his lips onto Loki's for the first time, and the world promptly ceased to exist around them. 

***

Charles was preparing for his first class of the semester in his study when Erik came home from work. Following the well-known sensation of the metal in his husband's wedding ring, Erik quickly located him after putting his messenger bag down. 

"What are you working on, Liebling?" He asked as he leaned down to plant a quick kiss on the top of Charles's head.

"Introduction to Genetic Engineering 101," Charles said as he closed the lid of his computer. "How was your day?"

"Long, boring, uneventful. Any news from Pete?"

Erik sat down on the couch - a piece of furniture he had very fond memories about, - and looked at Charles questioningly.

"No, nothing. I'm sure everything will go swimmingly. He is such a nice young man. And he resembles you so much."

Erik grinned proudly. "Yeah, that's exactly why I'm worried about him. I wasn't this open-minded in his age. And he has my awkwardness."

Charles joined him on the couch, sitting down on his husband's lap, wrapping one arm around his neck.

"I remember your mind, and it was - still is - a wonderful place. Pete will be okay. And yes, you might have had a harder time dealing with these kinds of things, but darling, those were very different times. And you had come from a different place."

Charles tucked his head into the nook of Erik's neck, snuggling close as Erik hugged him to his chest tightly.

"I'm just glad I found you," he whispered loud enough for Charles to hear.

"No arguing on that front. Even though I don't think we had a proper first date. Maybe that one after the party, in the coffee shop. When you let me into your mind for the first time.”

Erik ran his fingers up and down Charles' arm, contemplating his answer. "That wasn't a date. I had no idea who I really was back then. I was just a lost and confused German boy."

"You were so much more than that. But okay, then maybe the one after that?"

Erik smiled fondly at the memory. "Okay, maybe you are right."

There were no more words between them, as Charles found Erik's lips for a long and lazy kiss. 

_"There are some perks of an empty house, you know."_ He projected into his husband's mind. " _Not like it had ever stopped us before. I still remember the time you had been so keen on ravishing me on this very couch."_

Erik's mental voice was just as smug as it had been then. " _What can I say? You looked so edible, I just had to taste you."_

Charles sat up to straddle Erik's waist, arms bracketing his head. _"You and your vampire tendencies. Lucky for you I love scarves just as much as you like your turtlenecks."_

_"We make quite a pair, Mr. Lehnsherr-Xavier."_ Erik's mind was bursting with affection, so much it made Charles dizzy in the best way. 

" _That we are, Mr. Lehnsherr-Xavier."_

Another kiss accompanied by the various images of what Charles planned to do with him sent Erik's mind into a lustful frenzy.

"You shouldn't have anything against me ravishing you on this couch now. No kids to disturb us. No one to bother our time together," Erik whispered into Charles's ear before gently biting his earlobe.

"What's with you and biting me?"

"You are delicious."

Charles just laughed and quickly got rid of his sweater vest and shirt, throwing them both to the floor unceremoniously. 

"What are you waiting for, then? Here is your opportunity, take it. And me."

Erik lunged at him, pushing Charles down into the couch on his back, plastering his lips on Charles's chest, peppering it with kisses and bites. Charles just wrapped his legs around Erik's waist and pulled him closer, enjoying the feeling of his husband's hardening cock. 

"Not bad from an old man," Charles said teasingly, head falling back onto the couch cushion to give more access. 

"I will show you who is old." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up with some comments, tell me what you think :)


	5. Erik, you are not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, just in time for Cherik Week!  
> Erik has a gay crisis, gets some friendly advice from Azazel and finally opens up to Charles.  
> So much fluff!! Happy Cherik Week y'all!

**1995 November 10.**

Erik was pacing in his room. It didn't make sense. None of it made any sense. How could he... He had never thought he would feel like this and for another man. He was already a pariah, an outcast. He was already different enough for society to hate him, to want to destroy him. And he had never thought about other men like that. Not before Charles. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered some foggy dreams from his adolescence of strong hands and sharp jawlines, but he had ignored those all his life.

He shouldn't feel like this, he had never felt like this. He was probably just confused, having found someone who got him, someone who matched him intellectually. 

The memory of Charles's voice in his mind was still fresh, the most amazing thing Erik had ever felt. 

He fell down onto his bed, hands sliding over his face as he tried to make sense of these whirlwind-like feelings. It wasn't working. He was a mess. And so caught up in his self-pity he did not realize the rush of air and faint pop as Azazel appeared at his side.

"Erik? Is everything all right? You missed today's meeting and we got worried," seeing the state of his friend, the Russian sat down next to him on the bed. "What's going on?"

Erik, who was about to pull out fistfuls of his short hair, looked up at his friend like a startled animal.

"Verdammt, Az, you scared me! I told you not to just teleport into my room unannounced."

"Yeah, I wouldn't have had to if you had just shown up for today's meeting. Sorry for being concerned about you. You look distressed. Has something happened?"

Erik looked up at Azazel, eyes full of confusion and desperation.

"I don't know. Everything is a mess."

"That sounds like something a couple of drinks would help with. And not that cheap excuse of alcohol you are so fond of. You will man up and drink vodka like an adult. Da?"

"Will vodka give me the answers I'm looking for?" Erik asked even though he already knew it was a bad idea.

"No. But it will make you forget the question."

Going out for a couple of drinks with a teleporter meant that, quite literally, the world was their canvas. But knowing Azazel, ‘the world’ in this case probably just meant Russia. Because judging by the signs on the walls, they were not in Massachusetts anymore. The underground place they ended up in was dark and gloomy, the air heavy with sweat, smoke, and alcohol. The patrons were just as shady; tattooed muscleheads populated the place. In the back, there was a pool table and a jukebox currently playing some terribly loud Russian music. 

"Where are we?" Erik asked bewildered. 

"Home. Come on, I will introduce you to Igor."

"Az, I don't speak Russian."

"You don't have to. I will speak for the both of us. You only need to drink."

Pulling a reluctant Erik to the bar, Azazel shouted something in Russian to the terrifying bartender. The tall man had tattoos all over his face and both his arms, even his completely bald head was inked. He didn't seem like a very friendly fellow, but when he recognized Azazel, he broke out in a wide smile, showing all his golden teeth.

"D'yavol!"

They conversed for a while before Igor put two shot glasses and a whole bottle of vodka in front of them. "Nazdarovje!"

Azazel poured them the first round and Erik accepted his fate and threw it back. It was strong as hell, burning his throat all the way down.

" _ Scheiße _ ! This is some strong stuff!" He cried out gasping for breath. Azazel just grinned at him and refilled their glasses.

"It’s good stuff. Real. Now tell me about the thing that's been stressing you. But first, drink on."

After the second and third shot, Erik found his tongue had loosened. 

"It’s just... eyes, man. So blue. Amazingly so. How can eyes be so blue?"

Azazel slapped him on the back and poured them another drink.

"They can certainly be. Who is the lucky girl?"

Erik let out a growl and dropped his head into his hands with a thump. "Hmmmmppp," he let out, voice muffled by his arm.

"I don’t think I quite got that. I never thought I would see you like this because of someone. Angel had told me about how you weren't really into the whole fling you two have had. But maybe you were just waiting for that one special lady. Come on, be a bro. Who is it? Someone from the Brotherhood? Oh, is it that hot blonde shapeshifter? She is blue enough. But I'm not sure about her eyes."

Now it was Erik’s turn to pour another shot and throw it back. "Almost. Same family. Wrong sibling."

Azazel looked honestly confused by that. "What? Does Raven have a sister? I had only met her brother once, that self-entitled, posh little brat, and... Oh." The penny had obviously dropped as Azazel put two and two together. "He does have some significantly blue eyes."

Erik couldn't answer verbally, only with a distressed groan. 

"That explains why things didn't work out between you and Angel, then. And what's the matter? I hear he quite fancies the company of other men as well."

Erik looked up at Azazel like he suddenly grew another head.

"He is a guy, Azazel. That's the problem. I don't. I'm not. I can't be."

The Russian guy just poured another round and drank up. "He is a man, da. What on earth is your problem? You of all people should know, there is no shame in being different. Look at me. I have horns and a bloody tail, for fuck's sake. Do I look like I care about what other people might think? I give exactly zero fucks about them. And so should you. You do what makes you happy. If it's that posh English guy, then go for it."

Erik still wasn't convinced. "But I'm enough of a freak already without being... you know... queer. I can't be. I'm already a foreigner and a mutant. It's just too much."

"Bullshit. You are proud to be German. You are proud to be a mutant. Why is fancying this Xavier kid any different?"

"I don't even know if I like him that way. It might just be completely platonic. He showed me his ability, got inside my mind. It was amazing. But maybe I just like his mind."

Azazel shrugged and clapped Erik on the shoulder supportively. "It could be platonic, da. Anyhow, I see no problem. You shouldn't, either. Trust me, I know what it is to be an outcast." Azazel took another drink before continuing "My parents had left me at the hospital the moment I came out red, with a tail and little horns. I had grown up in an orphanage but they had thrown me out when I was six. Igor here, he had taken me in, had named me his little  _ d'yavol _ and gave me a home. But you can imagine how people react when they see me for the first time."

Erik shrugged, but he understood where Azazel was coming from. He at least could hide his mutation if he chose to do so. That option wasn’t available for the Russian guy. 

"You are right. I’m sorry about your past, it must have been terrible."

"Keep your pity, Lehnsherr. I had an excellent life with Igor, never looking back. All I'm saying is, don’t be ashamed of yourself for being different in any way. Yes, you are from Germany, yes, you are Jewish, yes, you can manipulate metal. And yes, you might have feelings for another guy. Talk to Xavier. And if that spoiled little brat hurts you, I will personally take him to a very cold place and just leave him there."

Erik laughed tiredly, downing another glass of vodka. Things became pleasantly blurry as they got through most of the bottle. Charles's face appeared in front of him, all warm smiles and glinting blue eyes. His stomach made a somersault, and it might have been the vodka, but Erik wasn’t sure. Suddenly, he was desperate to see Charles, to talk to him. 

"Charles..." He muttered brokenly into his empty cup, but there was no answer. No velvety voice in his head, no warm touch over his mind.

"Okay, buddy, maybe it’s time for us to go home. You need some water and a bed. And probably some aspirin for tomorrow morning."

With a wave in the direction of the bartender, Azazel held onto Erik's arm and they vanished into thin air, to re-appear in Erik's dorm room. 

"HOLY FUCK, stop doing that!" Came a screech from the other side of the room where Erik's roommate, Remy looked at them like he had just had a heart attack.

"Ssssh. Erik needs water and some pain-killers for tomorrow. I will check on him in the morning."

"What did you do to him?"

Azazel put Erik down on his bed without an answer. "We had drinks. The German boy has no stomach for good Russian vodka. Try to keep him alive and do not let him choke on his own vomit, okay? I will be back in the morning." With a puff of air, Azazel disappeared.

Erik was on his stomach, lying face-first on the bed, head pushed into his pillow.

"Are you all right? Do you need a bucket or something?"

"Mmmmmmm Pphh," came the answer. 

"At least take your shoes off. And have some water, or you will be feeling like shit tomorrow."

"Hmmm Pph," again, not very eloquent.

"You're gonna owe me big time for this," Remy said and pulled Erik's shoes off, then proceeded to turn him around so he won’t suffocate on his pillow. "Why the hell did you get piss-ass drunk on a Wednesday night?" He asked, shaking his head while getting a bottle of water and putting it on the nightstand with a couple of pills. "You will need this in the morning."

"Eyes. Blue. Lips. Soft," Erik muttered under his breath as he rolled over, facing the wall and fell asleep immediately. 

"Oh boy, you’ve got it bad," Remy said as he went back to reading his book. 

* * *

The next morning brought sunshine and pain for Erik. His head was pounding like there was a marching band inside of it, and his stomach felt sick.

"Gaaaawwwhh," he groaned as he tried opening his eyes, but that only made it worse. Everything was too shiny and too bright. Like the whole world was trying to mock him with all the sunshine.

"Are you alive?" Remy asked from his side of the room. The French boy was casually sitting up in bed, turning over a page in his book.

"N't s're 'bout that," came the slurred answer as Erik tried to pull the covers over his head, only to realize he was on top of them since he had collapsed fully clothed on top of his bed last night.

"I left some water and pain-killers on your nightstand. Take them. Why the heck did you think getting this sloshed on a weekday was a good idea?"

Erik blindly reached for the bottle next to the bed and after successfully locating it, took a long swig."

"It's all Azazel's fault. Took me to Russia. There was a bottle of vodka. Mein Gott, my stomach feels bad."

"If you throw up on your bed, you will be cleaning it up," Remy said empathically. 

"Eat a cactus, Remy," Erik grumbled as he slowly stood up, trying out his wobbly legs. 

"Charming as ever, Lehnsherr. Next time I will just let you suffocate."

Erik threw back the pills with more water and tried to pull himself together enough to venture out towards the bathroom.

When he came back, slightly refreshed, clean, but still terribly sick, he found Azazel sitting on his bed, grinning at him like the devil he was.

"Morning Sunshine. How are we feeling today?"

Erik just tried to give him a menacing look, but it wasn't as effective as it usually was.

"Get lost, Az. This is all your fault."

"Hey, I made sure you get home safe. And you will live. It was the finest vodka in all of Russia. It will be out of your system in no time. In the meantime... Should I get you _ someone _ to play nurse with you? A certain blue-eyed someone?" He said with a suggestive eye-brow raise.

Erik moaned even louder and fell back on his bed, pulling his pillow onto his head to block out everyone.

"Don't you dare. Go away and let me die in peace."

"But it's so much fun to tease you. Am I right, LeBeau?" Azazel turned to Remy, who was still engrossed in his novel.

"Leave me out of this, it's your mess."

"Seriously Erik, talk to him. When you feel a little better. I can ask about his dorm from Raven, you should totally go and surprise him. Don't beat yourself up."

Erik looked out from under his pillow, but Azazel was already gone. His gaze slid over onto Remy, who was still looking at his book.

"Did you hear that?" Erik asked, with a tinge of fear in his voice. 

"Didn’t hear a thing, if that’s how you want it. None of my business. You keep out of my life, I keep out of yours. That was our deal and it works perfectly."

Erik let out a sigh of relief and pulled the pillow back onto his face. The world hated him today. 

* * *

**1995 November 13.**

Charles was sitting in the library, researching for a study he was in the middle of writing. He was just about to finish up for the day when Raven appeared at his table.

"Raven! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

His sister looked at him for a moment with one elegant eyebrow raised.

"You won't believe what just happened. Azazel just inquired about your dorm situation. Where are you living, do you have a roommate, these sorts of things. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Charles looked up in confusion. "I honestly have no idea. I have never even been friendly towards your boy. I find him a rather uncomfortable person."

Raven did not seem convinced. "Well, he was very pleased when he heard you have your own apartment. I can't believe it, Charles! Can't I have one person for myself??? Why do you have to take every single one of them??"

Charles started to get irritated. The library wasn't a place for these kinds of discussions.

"Raven, this is not the place to talk about this," he tried to reason.

"And that was a guy I fancied!" The girl shrieked, not caring about her environment or the people watching.

"Let's get out of here before they throw us out."

Charles quickly put his stuff away and grabbed Raven by her arm, leaving quickly and pulling her behind him.

When they were out of the building, Raven broke free. "Get off me! How could you, Charles??? You know how I feel about the guy."

Charles couldn't believe the situation he found himself in. Raven accused him of seducing someone he quite disliked, and who was asking about his living quarters... Unless... Suddenly it all became crystal clear, and Charles felt himself blush.

"Of course!" He slapped his forehead. "Relax, darling, Azazel did not ask for himself." 

That stopped Raven who was about to start screaming again. "What? Then for whom?"

Charles couldn't help but grin slightly. "He had asked for his friend. You might know him. Erik."

Raven immediately calmed down, her fury giving way to interest. 

"Tall, dark and brooding Erik? The German metallokinetic guy? Wow, that's some news."

"It's not like that, we just had a good chat a couple of days ago. He doesn't have a phone and I forgot to tell him where I live. We are just friends." Even though Charles would not have protested against becoming more. But he had seen the confusion and doubt even on the surface of the man's mind. This was not something to be rushed.

"Yeah, I know you and your  _ friendships.  _ I lived with you long enough for that."

"This isn't like that at all. Yes, the guy is gorgeous and has the most exquisite mind I have ever seen, but I'm content with being his friend.”  _ For now, _ he added in his mind.

They walked through the campus, the dark night only illuminated by a couple of lamps scattered across the lawn. 

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just really like Azazel, and I always feel like I'm not good enough for people. And you are so popular. With both genders. It's just not fair."

Charles put his hand around Raven's shoulder supportively. "You are wonderful, and anyone who doesn't feel like that has me to answer to. I can make their lives pretty interesting. Like spending a week running around thinking they are a mouse or something like that. I'm very creative."

Raven gave him a tired smile. "Thanks, but I will pass. I would have even less luck if it got out that my big brother dealt with anyone who turned me down .  Anyhow, I hope things work out with Az."

"If he makes you happy, I'm good with it. But I will give him the shovel talk if you two get together. It's my solemn duty as your brother."

"Whatever."

When they arrived back at Raven's dorm building, and after making sure she was securely inside, Charles got left alone with his thoughts. The mere fact that it had been Azazel who had asked about Charles spoke volumes. 

Erik was lost, confused and probably in a very bad place right now. Charles couldn't help it, he reached out telepathically, feeling all the minds at the University, searching for that one specifically organized one before finding it. Erik was asleep, his mind restless even in his slumber. 

" _ Sleep, darling boy, _ " Charles whispered into his mind and gave it a soothing stroke. He could feel Erik relaxing into his mental touch and it took Charles everything to pull back from his mind. A wave of affection washed over him and Charles had to stop to clear his head. "Oh fuck," he muttered to himself. "I'm in deep shit."

* * *

**1995 November 17.**

A couple of days had passed before Charles met Erik again. Charles was just leaving the Biology department, where he had spent hours crouching over a microscope. As he walked by the Northwest Building, Charles saw Erik leaving the Particle Physics lab. So he picked up his pace and caught up to him. 

"Hey there, stranger!" Erik looked startled and Charles could pick up a rush of panic. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Erik composed himself rather quickly and even managed a guarded smile. "Hi, Charles. You did not frighten me, I was just pretty preoccupied."

"That much I can see. So where are you headed?"

Erik shrugged. "I just finished for the day, I was thinking about going back to my room. Why?"

"Because I had a terribly long day in the labs and could use a big cup of tea. How about we find a nice coffee shop and unwind?"

"Yeah, that would be nice."

They ended up at Cambridge Common, which wasn't exactly a coffee place, more like a bar. But it was a slow afternoon and it wasn’t too crowded, so they could find a booth relatively easily.

Erik ordered a beer, while Charles chose a scotch, and for a while, they both nursed their drinks in silence.

"I will be honest, this is better than a cup of tea right now. And I really love tea."

Erik couldn't help but grin above his beer. "That much I already gathered. Not surprising, though, since you are English."

"Yeah, look who's talking, Mr. German Beer-drinker. Let's just not get into stereotypes."

"Touché."

There was another awkward silence which Charles broke casually. "So Raven visited me in a library with some interesting news. She said your friend Azazel was intrigued about where I live. My sister almost tore me a new one, as she thought I was hooking up with Azazel. It took a certain amount of time to convince her otherwise.”

Erik's face darkened and his jaw tightened. " _ Dieser Russischer Arschloch kann sich mal ins Knie ficken!  _ I'm gonna strangle that Russian bastard. Sorry for the inconvenience. Azazel can be very nosy."

Charles just smiled at him fondly. "It wasn't an issue. I would have told you anyway, I just forgot. I have an apartment, and I always welcome the company. Do you play chess?"

Erik perked up at once.

"Do I play? I will have you know, I have never lost a game, ever. Yes, I play."

"Oh, really?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "I accept that challenge."

Erik could not resist the grin that washed over his features. It was so easy to be here, and talk to Charles. He never felt so at ease with someone he had just met. But still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was providing one more reason for society to hurt him. And even more so, to hurt Charles. Erik could feel something dark and menacing coming alive in his chest when he thought about what could happen to Charles. He would never let that happen. Not while he was alive.

"I will be fine, Erik," Charles reached over to touch his hand gently. "I can look out for myself."

"Did you... did you hear that?" Erik looked alarmed and afraid of being too obvious.

"Strong emotions and thoughts are hard to ignore. They feel like a megaphone right next to my ear. Don't worry, I won't go prying into your mind without your permission."

Erik didn't seem reassured. "I just... I don't know. Maybe I should get another drink." Then he remembered his little trip to Russia, and he quickly decided against it. "Or maybe not."

"You should worry less, my friend. You are way too serious. I felt it in your mind the last time, such order, such discipline for someone your age. You are being way too hard on yourself."

Erik wanted to let go, wanted nothing more than to just give in to the temptation and finally taste those amazingly red lips for the first time. But he couldn't. He was enough of a freak already, the only thing he needed was to add being queer to the list.

Charles did not let go of his hand, holding it reassuringly, while looking into Erik's eyes. That did not help with Erik's situation. Charles's eyes were just as tempting as his lips, if not more.

"So what about that game of chess?" Charles asked to break the tension. "We can buy you some more beer on the way, I only have scotch at home."

Erik swallowed hard, before nodding. "I'm good, thanks. But I will definitely take you up on that chess game offer. Now I'm really interested in how you play."

Charles smiled fondly. "I will go easy on you, I promise."

Erik's grin was back, showing all his teeth in a rather shark-like way. 

"No, you won't. And the game is so on."

In little less than half an hour, they were in the living room of Charles' apartment, sitting across from each other with a chessboard on the table between them. 

Charles had been telling the truth, he was an exceptionally good player, an easy match for Erik, who had never had the opportunity for a really challenging partner. Growing up, most of the time he had played with his Mom, but she had always let him win. Then he had played with Azazel a handful of times, but the Russian wasn't really a board-games kinda guy. So Charles was a welcome opponent, and a worthy one, at that.

Erik still won in the end, laying checkmate on Charles, but for the first time in his life, it wasn't as easy as it used to be.

"Good game," Erik concluded as he leaned back in his chair.

"I demand a rematch," Charles proclaimed, standing up to fill his glass. 

"You can have all the rematches you desire, but I will still beat you," Erik boasted. "But you are a good player," he admitted. "The best I have come across."

"Flattery will get you everywhere. You still won't drink anything?"

Erik shook his head. He had enough alcohol in the past days, and he would prefer to keep his head clear. "I'm good." 

Looking around in the cramped apartment he saw a door that was probably leading to a bedroom, a desk by the window with a lot of papers on it, and shelves full of books along all the walls. "You live here alone?"

Charles came back from the small kitchenette and sat down with his now full glass. "Yeah, it's easier this way. Raven sleeps over sometimes, that's why I have a sofa, but usually, it's just me.  _ And whoever I bring home for the night.  _ He did not add the last part. It's been weeks since he had hooked up with anyone anyway.

"I live in a double. My roommate is French, he is called Remy, but he is okay. He loves to play cards but is not very good at chess. So, rematch?"

"Absolutely. How about this: each time someone loses a piece, he has to tell something about himself."

Erik considered it but gave in. He wanted to know everything about this fascinating telepath and was sure about his chess skills. 

"Okay. By the end of the night, I will know all your little secrets," Erik added with much more confidence than he actually felt.

"We shall see, Erik. We shall see."

The first who lost a piece was - to his utter surprise - Erik. Charles took one of his pawns and looked rather smug doing so.

"Fine," Erik groaned with an eye-roll. "Have your fun. I was born in Dusseldorf in 1968."

"I already knew that, but I accept it," Charles said generously with a half-smile. 

"How gracious of you."

A couple of minutes later, Erik triumphantly won one of Charles' bishops and was looking at him expectantly.

"I was born in Exeter in 1970."

"Youngster," Erik puffed, grinning as he made his move, and it didn't take him long to win a pawn from Charles.

Charles took a long sip from his drink before speaking. "I don't remember my father. My mother took down every photo of him after his death."

There was a tense silence after that confession. Erik wanted to comfort him. He knew how it felt to lose a parent.  _ I'm sorry.  _ He thought and Charles just smiled sadly.  _ Thank you. But it was a long time ago.  _

The game rolled on, and to his chagrin, Erik lost a bishop. 

"I lost my father as well. Car crash when I was a child. But I have a couple of photos of him, my mother and me. Mom keeps on telling me how I remind her of him. His name was Magnus, and I'm glad I have it as a middle name."

Charles reached over the table to squeeze Erik's hand gently. Erik tensed up but did not pull away.

As they continued their game, Charles lost two pawns and a rook and Erik found out how Charles's family came from old money and was more wealthy than Erik could have imagined, how Charles had met Raven when they had both been kids, and how the telepath had modified everyone's memories just a bit to insert the girl into their lives. Erik, on the other hand, lost a knight and told Charles about his lonely childhood and the first time he had discovered his powers.

"I was 8 years old and there was this older boy in school who liked to pick on me. I was smaller than him, and I was poor, ginger and Jewish. That was enough to make my life a living hell. So it was lunchtime, and we were in the canteen, I was trying to keep low and survive - just like every day. But this  _ Arschloch _ , this Richter - that was his name -, came up to me and called me a pig and told me that was the reason why I won't eat pork. Then he started to make these annoying pig-sounds. The whole cafeteria was laughing, and I just felt something break loose inside of me. The next thing I remember was all the metalware that started flying around the canteen, the kitchen staff screaming in panic as the huge cauldrons of food started to move. I felt so angry, I wanted to hurt Richter, to hurt them all. To make them choke on their laughs. All those heavy iron pans and pots flew out from the kitchen and fell down on Richter and his gang, knocking them unconscious immediately. For a moment it felt so good, to have the power to hurt them, to make them stop. But then I realized what I had done and I ran away."

Erik stopped in the story as he felt a gentle touch on his mind. 

"May I?" Charles asked quietly, two fingers lifted to his forehead. Erik just nodded and closed his eyes. 

In a whirl of memories, he was back in the canteen, angry and hurt and alone, with the yet unfamiliar feeling of all the metal in the room flowing through his veins.  _ Hurt them, make them stop, you have the power to make them stop, they will be sorry for laughing at you.  _ But there was something different this time. As Erik focused more on the blurred memory, he saw a little boy, some years younger than him, with the most amazing blue eyes imaginable. He came over to Erik, with a sweet smile on his very pink lips, and gently took his hand in his own, squeezing it, while staring at him with those wide cerulean eyes.

" _ You are not alone. You are not alone, Erik. I'm here with you now, and I will never leave you again, I promise. _ "

They were back in Charles's room, Erik's heart was beating like he had just run the marathon. Charles was smiling at him, just as beautiful as he had been as a little child. "You are not alone anymore. I could not be there with you then, but I'm with you now. As long as you let me. In any way you let me. You don't have to be alone anymore."

That was it. Erik lunged forward, grabbed Charles by the front of his cardigan, and pulled him close, crashing their lips together. 

It wasn't a long kiss, but for them, it still felt like an eternity had passed before finally breaking apart to breathe.

"Oh wow. That was unexpected," Charles said finally. "Appreciated, but unexpected nevertheless."

Erik was breathless, his mind running a mile a minute. But at that moment, nothing else mattered. Only this amazing person in front of him, who stood up for him in front of the demons of his long-past childhood. 

"You. No one ever stood up for me before. I just had to. Was that... alright?"

A sudden rush of panic washed over Charles, so he was quick to comfort the slightly shaking man. He took his hand and lifted to his lips, kissing each knuckle as gently as he could.

"It was wonderful."

"I wanted to do that for a while now. I just couldn't get myself to let go." Erik was still shaking, one hand still clutched into the front of Charles's cardigan.

"Should we continue our game?" Charles asked after a while, glancing down at the discarded board on the table.

"Yes," Erik whispered but did not let go. The angle was awkward after a while, so they eventually sat back down.

_ "Thank you for trusting me,"  _ Charles projected into Erik's mind with a caress. 

" _Thank you, Charles. For_ _being here."_

Erik won the game again, but neither of them cared much. They were much too preoccupied with their conversation and those adventurous and discovering kisses, the game soon forgotten. 

Erik kissed Charles with every fiber of his being, putting all the things he couldn't say into the touch of their mouths. At the moment, there was nothing more important than the softness of those sinful lips and how they opened up under his. 

Fingers running through luscious brown locks of hair, as Erik gently massaged Charles's scalp, and their lips found each other again and again in kisses that never seemed to end. 

_ "You taste exquisite, I just can't get enough of it." _

" _ I never, never... with another man." _

Erik could feel Charles chuckle in his mind. 

" _ Don't worry, we will take things slow. This is enough for now." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it :)  
> Comments and kudos are love and they make my day <3


	6. A night to remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a semester-launch party held by one Tony Stark. New friendships and new experiences are on the way.   
> And a little glance into Charles and Erik's life without the kids living at home :) *wink wink*

**2025\. October 15.**

By the time October rolled around, the temperature had dropped significantly, as the New York fall really took its swing. With the constantly growing amount of workload their professors were piling on them, Pietro and his friends had less and less time to socialize.

They still got together every Friday night to let out the stress with a party somewhere on campus or in the city. But on those occasions, it was mostly just the inner circle. Pietro and Loki – now an official item, with much more PDA than their friends deemed acceptable –, Bucky and Clint – answering fire with fire, and PDA with PDA –, and of course Wanda and Natasha, with the occasional addition of Thor. 

"Did you see the event at the ADP?" Pietro asked one night, as they were all lounging in their dorm building's common room. 

"Which one? The open-mic lit day or the art show?" 

"Neither. The semester-launching bash organized by the billionaire Stark kid. It already has like hundreds of people interested on Facebook."

Wanda looked up from her book with an arched eyebrow. "A frat party at the ADP? Aren't they supposed to be ‘not like the other houses?’" 

Pietro shrugged and sent the event invite into the group-chat."Well, if you are a Stark, you can probably throw a party wherever you want. But I'm sure it's gonna be huge. The kid is a gazillionaire."

"You mean his father is," Bucky piped in from his place casually on Clint's lap. "I bet there will be an open bar."

"He certainly can afford it. And it won't hurt to make his acquaintance. He might have some connections that could come in handy after graduation." It was the ever-realistic Clint who pointed that out.

"Wow, that was a very grown-up thing to say. And a little bit opportunistic," Bucky noted, elbowing Clint lightly in his stomach.

"Hey, it's a mad world out there, you have to take opportunities as they come."

Bucky just grinned at that. "Well, you are an expert on taking... things," he said unabashedly, earning a groan from the others in the room.

"Knock it off, you horndogs!"

On the day of the party, Pietro met Loki at their dorm. It was still such a heady experience to call Loki his partner. It took Pietro's breath away every time when he laid eyes on Loki, who pulled off every look with such effortless elegance. For that night, they opted for a skin-tight emerald green dress that barely covered their knees, and paired it with knee-high leather boots and a black leather jacket. Their long black hair was let down, brushing over their shoulders. 

"You look utterly mouthwatering," was all Pietro could mutter, as he took in his partner. 

Loki just winked at him and pulled the boy into their room to kiss him thoroughly. When they broke apart, Pietro felt rather like a fish out of water. 

"Glad you like it." There was something definitely impish in Loki's grin as they leaned back in to whisper in Pietro's ear. "Because I can't wait for you to get me out of these. There is little else I could think about all week."

"Oh..." Pietro let out a broken-off moan as Loki started to nibble on his neck. And Pietro quickly regretted wearing so tight jeans. "Really?"

"Hmmm."

Their relationship had not reached the physical level as of yet, both of them too busy with school-work to have proper time for getting down and dirty. There had been some quite heated make-out sessions in secluded corridors and the occasional dorm rooms if they had been able to get some privacy. They did not want to rush into anything, but Pietro was very much okay with what Loki was suggesting.

"We should get going, or else we won't go anywhere tonight," Pietro managed to breathe out as he tried to get himself under control. 

"You are probably right," Loki said but did not cease with their actions. On the opposite, they slid their hands down to play with the hem of Pietro's shirt. 

"Come on, Loki, don't be difficult. If you don't stop this now, I will tear off that amazing green dress and all your hard work will go to waste," Pietro tried to reason, but he wasn't very convincing. Nevertheless, Loki pulled away reluctantly, giving Pietro a good look-over. 

"Oh, I can see your hard work as well," they said with a smirk, eyeing the bulge in Pietro's tight pants. 

Pietro felt himself getting red in the face. "Shut up, it's all your fault."

Loki smoothed their dress and coat down, winking at Pietro. "Come on, darling, we don't want to be late."

They all met by the gate on the 114th street, and Pietro had to admit, all his friends were absolutely gorgeous. Natasha was wearing a blood-red leather skirt with a corset-like top and black heels. Clint was in a simple grey shirt under his jacket, paired with dark-washed jeans. Bucky on his side was dressed to the nines, as usual. Dark red leather pants hugged his thighs, with a low-cut white shirt and a couple of beaded necklaces to accessorize the look. His grey-blue eyes were lined artfully with black eyeliner, his shoulder-length hair tousled. 

Even his sister was looking fine, Pietro had to give her that, begrudgingly, in a scarlet jacket and a long black dress, with her red hair falling onto her shoulders in elegant curls. They were a pretty good-looking bunch. 

The Alpha Delta Pi house wasn't far away, not even a block down on the so-called frat row, where most of the fraternity houses were located. They could hear the music coming from it, even from outside. The whole building was buzzing with life, throngs of people everywhere and upbeat music blasting from the speakers along the walls.

"Wow. Stark does know how to throw a party," Clint commented, taking in the completely transformed house, which now looked like an upper-east side disco. 

"Let's get something to drink and then find the host," Bucky proposed and there was a rumble of agreement coming from the group.

There was indeed an open bar in the back, so they quickly acquired their preferred drinks and went around exploring. The whole first floor of the house was transformed, with disco-lights flashing and loud music thumping through the walls. They found their host for the night at the DJ stand, immediately recognizable by the pictures all over various gossip sites. 

The young heir of Stark Industries was lean, but not very tall, wearing a simple white shirt with blue jeans, and for some reason, designer sunglasses, indoors. Tony was twisting and turning buttons and dials at the DJ stand, swaying to the music. 

"He is much shorter in real life," Bucky pointed out as they shoved through the crowd to get to the dancefloor.

Pietro just shrugged and grabbed Loki's waist, pulling them closer to himself, completely ignoring their celebrity host.

"Dance with me?" He asked, shouting into Loki's ear over the loud music.

"I thought you would never ask."

Tony Stark was the one and only son and heir of multi-billionaire tech genius Howard Stark. Someone who was envied by thousands, and feared by hundreds. Tony was 20 years old and studying at MIT. Well, currently he was on a two-semester research exchange at Columbia, happy to get away from Boston and the scrutinizing public eye. 

The gossip magazines and paparazzi followed him to New York, of course, but he did not care. Tony gave them what they wanted, the image of a careless playboy, throwing parties, and living the American dream. They loved to write about Tony's lifestyle, his two partners, his bisexuality and polyamory – it was 2025 and the public still couldn't grasp the concept of more than two people in a relationship. Or the distinction between bisexuality and pansexuality for that matter.

Because Tony was out and proudly pansexual, in a happy relationship with his two high-school sweethearts, James Rhodes and Pepper Pots. They both accompanied him to Columbia, enjoying a gap-year, staying with Tony at the Stark townhouse on Park Avenue. The house had a gorgeous view of Central Park and came with a “built-in” butler, Jarvis. 

Jarvis was his father's employee of course, but Tony grew rather fond of the man over the years he had known him. He was English and paid much more attention to Tony than his own parents ever had. 

Enjoying the freedom and the distance from his suffocating family situation, Tony had thrown himself into the social life of the university. He had joined the ADP house on his first day – and they would never turn down someone as famous and rich as he was. He had even managed to convince them to let him throw this party. 

Hopping off from the DJ stand, Tony strolled through the sea of people with ease. He received some pats on the shoulder, a couple of handshakes and someone even gave him a bottle of beer – which he politely accepted and got rid of as quickly as he could. 

"Cool goggles, man!"

Pietro looked around, looking for the source of the voice and found none other but Tony Stark grinning at him, pointing at the ever-present accessory in his silver-blonde hair. 

"Thanks. Cool party," Pietro added with a polite smile. 

"Yeah, it's okay I guess. Tony Stark," the young billionaire introduced himself, quite unnecessarily with an outstretched arm. 

"Duh, you don't say," Pietro rolled his eyes but accepted the hand. "Pietro Lehnsherr-Xavier. And this is my partner, Loki Odinson," he nodded at Loki.

"Cool, cool. Hey, you said Lehnsherr-Xavier?" Tony perked up with interest.

"Yeah, Professor Xavier is my father, you might know him, he teaches at Columbia," Pietro answered the well-versed question, which came with sharing a quite out of the ordinary name with one of the professors.

"Yeah, no, I did not mean him. Lehnsherr. Erik Lehnsherr, or, well, Lehnsherr-Xavier is your...?"

That was new. People usually asked about Charles, not Erik. 

"Oh, he is my father too. Why?"

Tony beamed up at him like he was Father Christmas. 

"Oh my God, I love his work. One of my designs was inspired by his new skyscraper in Brooklyn. That building is a real piece of art!"

Erik was one of the City's most sought-after architects, his own engineering company having grown huge over the decades. The building Tony was referring to was truly a sight to behold. It was made out of wrought-iron and glass, all delicate curves and glimmering planes. 

"Maybe we could go somewhere with less noise?" Tony offered and Loki furrowed their brows at that, territorial jealousy starting to boil in their gut.

"Maybe you could get back to the party you put together? And spend, you know, time with your other guests?" They snapped at the man with arms folded in front of their chest. Tony got the point and put his hands up defensively. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your evening. I'm gonna dash now, but here is my number," Tony handed over a card. "I am staying at the Stark Townhouse on Park Avenue. Maybe you could drop by, sometime? Both of you, even," he added, glancing at Loki. "I would love to meet your father as well. I'm sure we would have a lot to talk about."

With one last smile and a pat on Pietro’s shoulder, Tony vanished into the crowd. 

"I don't like him," Loki growled, arms still crossed. 

Pietro couldn't help but grin at his sweetheart. "Are you jealous?"

"Phh, please. I don't get jealous."

Pietro gently unfolded Loki's arms and put them on his shoulders, pulling Loki flush against his chest. "You totally are. It's alright. I find it kinda hot."

"You better," Loki puffed before capturing Pietro’s lips with a kiss. "Please tell me we have the room for tonight," they whispered desperately as they split apart.

"Oh, we will. Buck owes me one. Let's go and tell him."

They found the others near the bar, spread over some couches with countless bottles and glasses around them. Bucky was straddling Clint's lap, making out with the boy like there was no tomorrow. Across from them, trying to ignore the rather intense PDA, Natasha and Wanda were deep in conversation. 

Pietro zapped over to the bar to grab them both a drink and was back in a blink of an eye, the woosh of air making the girls look up at him.

"Hey, little bro," Wanda smiled at her brother which made him roll his eyes.

"You gonna call me that for the 5 minutes you have on me?"

"Exactly."

With an exasperated sigh, Pietro sat down next to Clint and Bucky, pulling Loki down with him. He tapped on Bucky's shoulder to get his attention.

"Hey."

Bucky turned his head slightly, looking up. "Hey, you. What's up?"

Pietro swallowed hard, feeling his face heat up. He wasn't so shameless about his sex life as the other boy. "Can we... can you... can we have the room for a couple of hours? Or most preferably all night? Please?"

Bucky gave him a very naughty grin, obviously enjoying Pietro's awkwardness. "Look at that, our little Quicksilver is all grown up. The room is all yours, of course."

"Thanks," Pietro muttered, but of course, Bucky wasn't done yet.

"I have some supplies in my nightstand if you need them. Quite a lot, actually. Be safe, and Pete... try not to go too fast... if you know what I mean."

"STOP!" Pietro was already red like a tomato, staring at his foot. "God, I'm so gonna get back at you one day. But thanks. And ehm, see you tomorrow I guess?"

"I might even get you a  _ 'Congrats on the sex'  _ cake," Bucky teased good-heartedly before turning his full attention back to Clint.

Loki just grinned at Pietro before pulling him close and kissing him passionately. "Let's get out of here."

They walked back to campus in comfortable silence, holding hands when their fingers brushed together in between them.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Pietro asked, to say something. 

"Yeah, I did. Apart from Stark's appearance, it was fine."

"Oh, baby, the guy is totally harmless. And I wouldn't care, anyway. You know that, right?"

Loki gave him one of their secret, real smiles. "Yes, I know," Loki shivered and pulled their coat tighter around themselves. The mid-October night was getting rather chilly.

"What do you say about getting back a bit faster? I can run back to the room in no-time."

"It's all right. We have all night. We don't need to rush things."

Even at normal speed, it only took 10 minutes to get back to Pietro's building. It was mostly quiet, some music coming from one of the rooms and from the TV in the commons. As the door of the room closed behind them, Pietro suddenly felt nervousness resurfacing. They were here together countless times, but never with the purpose of having sex for the first time. 

"Do you... can I get you something? We have water and some soda if you…" He was cut off as Loki pushed their lips together, shoving their tongue into Pietro’s mouth with purpose, like they were on a mission.

"Darling, don't fret. It's gonna be alright." 

Stumbling to the bed, Loki quickly got rid of their jacket and threw it somewhere across the room. Pietro’s t-shirt followed suit before Loki shoved him slightly and Pietro landed on the bed rather ungracefully. 

"How do you want to do this?" He asked, looking up at Loki with his heart in his throat. 

"Well, first thing’s first, we should get rid of all these clothes. Then we will see how it goes."

It really took a lot from Pietro not to use his super-speed to get both of them out of their clothes in a heartbeat. 

"Slow down, baby. No need to run now," Loki said with a warm smile, pulling their dress off and putting it over the chair, before straddling Pietro on the bed. "Let me take a good, long look at you. So gorgeous."

Loki ran their long fingers over Pietro's chest, teasing his nipples, keeping a watchful eye on Pietro to see his reaction. 

"Is this okay?" They asked, leaning down to trace the same path with their lips. 

"Very. Very much. Anything you want."

"Hmm... that's a lot of power you give to me," Loki whispered into his skin, peppering kisses all along Pietro’s neck and chest. 

"I don't mind. I like the view from here, but the place you are sitting right now is kinda counterproductive. In getting my pants off.”

Loki ground down on the obvious hardness in Pietro’s jeans, grinning wickedly. "You mean this? Well, that's a shame."

"You are killing me already, and we didn't even start yet."

"Stop talking, Pete."

Obeying for the first time in his life, Pietro fell quiet, talking with his body instead, thrusting up his hips and running his hands up and down Loki's sides. Taking pity on their boyfriend, Loki lifted their hips, so with a little fumbling – okay, a lot of fumbling, to be honest – Pietro could finally get rid of his pants.

"Much better."

With a rush of his speed, Pietro turned them over in a blur, pushing Loki into the mattress and kissing them hard. It was quiet for a while, the only sound in the room the slight smacking noise of their lips.

"So, how do you want us?" Pietro asked again, staring down at his beautiful sweetheart with all the adoration he could muster. 

"This is... this is nice. Watching you. Like this. Touch me, please." The previous cocky smugness disappearing, Loki sounded breathless and desperate, staring up at Pietro with a new kind of desire in their blue eyes. 

"It's unreal how beautiful you are. It should be illegal," Pietro sighed, carding his fingers through Loki's hair. 

"Yeah, don't call the police on me, dear. Keep it our little secret."

Pietro chuckled, his head falling down to rest against Loki's shoulder. "You are such a smartass, you know?"

Instead of answering, Loki just bit their lower lip in a seductive way and slid their hands down to play with the hem of Pietro's briefs, sliding under them exploringly. "Get these off, I want to see all of you."

With some more fumbling, they managed to get both of their underwear off and out of the way. 

"Absolutely gorgeous," was all Pietro could say, staring at his lover with a hunger he had never felt before. 

"You are not so bad yourself."

Grinding together naked was on a different level. Everything felt so real, all nerve endings singing as their bodies came alive with pleasure. Loki wrapped their legs around Pietro’s waist, while their arms slid around his neck to pull his face down into the crook of their neck. 

"You feel so good," Loki rasped, fingers caressing the sweaty skin as their bodies came together again and again. The friction was good and pleasure was zapping up both their spines like a livewire. "I'm not gonna last long."

Pietro was so lost in bliss, he could only nod, and picked up the pace of his hips, grinding them together with even less finesse as he felt the nearing of his climax. "Come with me, let it go."

Losing his grip on his powers, Pietro's body felt like a tense bow, ready to shoot. He felt himself thrusting down at superhuman speed, but he couldn't slow down, not when everything felt so perfect. He came with a strangled moan, satisfaction roaring through him like fire. All strength leaving his body, he fell down on Loki, blissed out and exhausted, not caring about the mess they made. 

"Wow. Did you... did you do that on purpose at the end, or...?"

Pietro slowly lifted his head, blinking at Loki, feeling boneless and content. 

"What do you mean?" He asked, kissing up and down on Loki's neck. 

"Not deliberate, then. You went all super-speed on me when you came. I'm not complaining, that was an experience. But that's good to keep in mind for later. I'm not sure how well that would work in... other situations."

Pietro felt himself getting red, and not just from the exhaustion. "Did I? Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I did not hurt you, right? I totally lost control, you just felt so amazing."

Loki pushed themself up onto their elbows, cradling Pietro in their arms. "It's okay, darling. It was an extraordinary experience, and I loved how you got lost in pleasure. It was hot. You are hot. We will just have to remember this for next time and have precautions." 

"God, I feel like I don't deserve you," Pietro whispered, finding Loki's lips again to kiss them slow and long, oozing every drop of love he felt for his beau into that one kiss.

* * *

**2025 October 20.**

Their lives were definitely quieter without the kids at home, and it reminded Charles of the time before having the twins. When it had been just the two of them living together, newly-weds so deeply in love, every day had seemed like a fresh episode of a new life. And Charles knew they did not love each other any less now. Their feelings just went from a blazing wildfire to a steady and warm domesticated one, the kind someone would have in their fireplace. 

Charles loved the weekend mornings the best, when they both had time to just laze around the house, without any rush. Erik, of course, was an early riser even on those days, getting up at an ungodly hour to go running, and was usually back with fresh bagels before Charles even woke up. After putting the pastries on the table, and taking a quick shower, he usually joined his husband back in their bed.

Erik would never have admitted to anyone, but he loved these mornings as well, greeting Charles with a smile as he slowly woke up. 

"Morning, Sunshine," he said, scrolling on his tablet as Charles stretched like a lazy cat next to him. 

"G'morning," Charles slurred, voice still heavy with sleep. "You had a good run?"

"Yes. I picked up your favorite bagels on the way." Erik snapped his fingers before adding. "And the kettle is on."

"You are the best," Charles yawned and sat up, snuggling close to Erik and putting his head on his shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

"Just some plans for our newest project. You know, that building uptown, by the river."

Charles started to pepper kisses all over Erik's shoulder. "Don't look at work stuff on a Sunday morning, honey."

Erik had his usual shark-like smile on his face as he put the tablet down on the nightstand.

"Then what should I do on this particular Sunday morning, Schatz?"

Charles kept nibbling on Erik's neck, hand sliding under the covers to find the hem of Erik's sweatpants. "I have a couple of ideas, to be honest."

"I can see that," Erik mused as he reached over to caress Charles's sleep-warm back, and grabbed a handful of his ass. 

Charles's wandering hands slid inside Erik's pants, taking hold of his hardening cock.  _ "Someone is happy to see me,"  _ he whispered into Erik's mind, the familiar psyche opening up for him without hesitation. 

" _ I'm always happy to see you. Stop being so corny though, we are not in our twenties anymore." _

Charles tightened his grip, sliding his fist up and down slowly, not enough friction to get off, just to tease. 

_ "Why are you doing this to me? Cruel, cruel man." _

Charles did not answer, just picked up the pace, jerking Erik off while continuing his attacks on Erik's neck. With his other hand, he quickly pulled back the sheet to get better access and avoid making a mess. 

It didn't take long for Erik to come, shooting in his husband's hand with a groan, his head falling back. Chares grinned smugly, picked up some tissues from the box on the bedside table to wipe his hands off. 

"How's that for a Sunday morning plan?" Charles asked, voice still laden with desire. 

Erik smiled lazily as he came down from his orgasm. Looking over at Charles he saw he was still hard, with how his pajama bottoms tented obviously over his erection.

"Your turn," Erik said, pushing the grey pants down so he could wrap his fingers around Charles, sliding his hand up and down his shaft swiftly and surely. 

Erik's calloused palm always felt so good against the sensitive skin of his cock. With his face buried in Erik's collarbone, Charles let himself go, mind drifting on the border of their shared consciousness. It did not take long for him to reach his peak, either, coming with a moan, muffled by Erik's shoulder, going boneless and limp with his orgasm. 

"Talk about a good morning. You are right, this is much more interesting than my plans."

"Shhhh, don't ruin my afterglow," Charles mumbled into Erik's skin, clinging to him like an oversized baby koala.

Erik made quick work of the mess they made, floating the metal bin to them to throw the soiled tissues out. 

"Come on, your bagels are waiting. And the kettle has gone off like ten minutes ago," Erik slapped Charles lightly on his side to get him out of bed.

"And I'm the cruel one? You should have put them on a metal tray so we could enjoy a nice breakfast in bed."

Erik just gave him an exasperated look, not even bothering with an answer. 

"So what's today's plan?" Charles asked over his steaming mug of tea as he spread cream cheese on his bagel. 

Erik looked up from his plate where he was stabbing his scrambled eggs in a rather discomforting way. "Wanda said they might come home for lunch today. I'm sure they have a lot to talk about."

The prospect of seeing the kids made Charles perk up happily. "I can't wait to hear about Pete's new..." He paused, searching for the word.

"Partner? Date? Significant other? I don't know the proper term either," Erik admitted. "But if they are happy, that's all that matters."

"Yeah. I'm glad they could grow up in a better world than we have."

Erik nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes. I still don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t come around."

Charles reached over the table to squeeze Erik’s hand. "Don't even think about that. We found each other, and that's all that matters."

"I hope we are doing a good job with the kids. I'm still so lost about the whole parenting thing. You’d think that over the last two decades I would have gotten used to it, but it's still a mystery every day."

Charles caressed his hand, drawing circles on Erik's hand with his fingers."You are a wonderful father, and I feel so blessed and lucky to have you. We all are."

The stainless steel cutlery started to rumble in their hands as Erik worked hard to suppress the tears threatening to break out.

Charles stretched out with his powers, gently soothing over Erik's mind. " _ It's okay." _

" _ Look at me, a grown man crying over breakfast like a..." _

" _ Like a passionate person, who is not afraid to let their emotions show. It's alright." _

Erik wiped his eyes with the napkin before picking the fork up again. "Oh God, I'm starting to behave like a sentimental old man."

"Hey, darling it is okay. And you are not an old man. You don't even have grey hair yet."

The mood of the conversation lifted, as they both got back to their breakfast. 

It was around 2 PM when they heard the keys rattling and the front door opening, signaling the arrival of Wanda and Pietro. Charles felt the approach of another mind, one he had only felt at the university before.

"Dad, Papa, we are home!" Wanda called out from the door. 

Erik, who was just finishing lunch preparations, turned the stove off with a flick of his powers and went out to greet the children.

There was a third figure standing a bit awkwardly next to Pietro, long black hair pulled up in a neat bun on the top of their head, wearing an elegant dark-green dress shirt and deep blue pants.

"You must be Loki," Charles said with a warm smile, giving a hand to the nervous-looking kid. 

"I am. Loki Odinson. Nice to meet you, Mr. Lehnsherr-Xavier. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you. Please call me Charles."

Erik gave them a good look-over before taking their hand in his own and giving it a tight squeeze. "So you are the famous Loki who stole our son's heart. I will give you exactly one warning. If you hurt my son in any way, you better remember that I have total control over the iron in your blood and I will use it to hurt you. Nice to meet you." 

With a wide, slightly frightening toothy grin on his face, Erik finally let go of Loki's hand who stood there as if they were stuck to the floor. 

Pietro rolled his eyes, taking his partner’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "Don't believe a word he says. My dear old Papa is all bark, no bite."

Wanda just shook her head at them, turning around and putting her coat away. "You are all such drama queens, really."

_ "Erik, behave,"  _ Charles sent into his husband's mind with a fond smile.  _ "You are scaring the poor kid." _

Loki found their voice and got themself back together. "Don't worry, Sir. I would never do anything to harm Pete. But if I ever do, you are authorized to hurt me."

"How about no one hurts no one, okay?" Charles piped in to dissolve the tension. "Let's just have a nice lunch together without the threat of violence."

"Daddy dear, you were always a big dreamer," Wanda said sarcastically and that was the end of the tense introductions.

From there on, lunch was a seamless affair. They talked about the school and teachers – Charles knowing most of the faculty, he was able to provide some insight on how to deal with the more challenging professors. 

"The talk in the scientific department is that the young Stark had joined us for the year," Charles said casually as they finished up lunch and settled down in the living room.

Loki just groaned at the name, which somehow made Pietro smile at them, and he picked up their joined hands – the maximum amount of PDA they were comfortable with in front of Pietro’s parents.

"Yes, we had met him at a party he threw a couple of days ago," Pietro said, still holding Loki's hand in his own. "He was actually rather interested in your work, Papa."

Erik looked slightly surprised by that. "Really? Well, I met his father once, at a conference. I never met a guy whose immense wealth was almost the same size as his enormous ego. I won't deny his genius, the guy really made some groundbreaking innovations and inventions. But he is amazingly arrogant. What is his son interested in?"

"The downtown building. The one with the wrought iron and the glass? He was rather passionate about it. And would love to meet you."

That made Charles arch an eyebrow. "Would he, now? Well, we should definitely take him up on that offer."

"I said the same thing. We should all give him a visit. Such an opportunity shouldn't go to waste,” Loki agreed with a rather disgusted look on their face.

Erik and Pietro shared a confused look, before turning back to their significant others. 

"Charles, Liebling. Are you honestly jealous of a 20 years old boy?"

"I'm not."

Erik and Pietro made a similar snorting noise at that. Wanda just rolled her eyes and made some red sparks fly, trying to ignore her ridiculous family. 


	7. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Erik angst incoming, but it's only for a little while and Charles comforts him in the best way :)

**1995\. November 23.**

Their Harvard house had organized a Thanksgiving dinner for anyone staying at the university for the holiday. Since Charles and Erik were foreigners with little care for that particular American holiday, they had decided to stay on campus, while most of the students and even the faculty had gone home. 

Their relationship was still so new, and every day Charles marveled about it. They did not advertise it openly, Erik was still very guarded about his feelings. But they had told Raven and Azazel. If Charles's sister had been surprised, she had masked it well, she had been all supporting smiles. 

Azazel just muttered a "finally" with a mixture of Russian words neither of them had understood, and had patted Charles on the shoulder.

"You treat him good, posh-boy. You treat him good or Azazel will find you."

Charles had agreed to that earnestly, glad that Erik had found a friend as loyal as Azazel, even if he still didn't really like the man.

Raven, on the other hand, fancied the Russian guy very much, and it looked like her feelings were mutual. They had only realized how reciprocated they actually were, when Azazel had offered to take Raven on a little vacation around the globe for the Thanksgiving holiday, and Raven had readily accepted it, much to Charles's chagrin.

"He might have a dangerous exterior, but Az is a good person," Erik tried to calm Charles down on their regular daily chess match. 

They had picked up the habit of ending each day with a game at Charles's place. It was something both of them could look forward to, and it helped them get to know each other a little better. 

They had found they could talk about everything. With their different upbringings, their childhood experiences couldn’t have been more divergent. But that gave them interesting, new perspectives to make their discussion even more lively. 

Apart from playing chess and talking, they spent a lot of time kissing, slowly discovering each other. Erik was a quick study, learning all the little tricks that could get the most wonderful noises out of Charles. They had not gone anywhere further than kissing, but for the moment, it was enough for both of them. 

"I know he is your friend and I don't want to be mean. But I am Raven's brother and it comes with the job. I have to worry about her and hate her boyfriends on principle."

Erik looked up at Charles, who was fuming, sitting across from him on the other side of the board.

"You are being unreasonable," Erik noted, and took one of Charles's pawns. "Get your head in the game, it's not as much fun to beat you if you don't even put up a fight."

"Hey! Do I have to remind you that I had won the last game yesterday?" Charles huffed like an angry kitten.

"Yeah, well, miracles can happen," Erik grinned with a dismissive wave, enjoying the teasing way too much.

"I will show you a miracle!"

_ You already have,  _ Erik thought, momentarily forgetting about Charles's ability. Charles blushed, but did not comment on the overheard confession.

In the end, it was another win for Erik, but Charles didn't mind it much. Seeing Erik's face light up when he lay check-mate on him was worth the lost game. Even if Erik became even smugger and cockier from the victory.

"I told you," Erik said with a self-satisfied grin. "You should have concentrated on the game more. This was an easy win."

"What can I say, darling? Your chess prowess is one-of-a-kind."

After putting the board away, Charles poured himself a glass of Scotch and opened a can of Erik's favorite beer. From the first day, he made sure to have the little fridge in his flat well-stocked with it. An action that, even though he would not yet say, made Erik think very kind things about Charles. 

"So do you wanna go to this Thanksgiving thing?" Charles asked as he sat back down with their drinks.

Erik shrugged. "I'm not a people person, and this holiday has no real meaning for me, so I don't know. I never really got the whole Thanksgiving business. I'm way too German for that."

"Come on, I'm English, but even I see the good in it. It doesn't have to be about history and such. Nothing to celebrate about the way they had settled down here, or what they had done. But the concept of being together and sharing things you are thankful for – I can get behind that." Charles smiled fondly, taking Erik's hand in his own. "And this year, I feel like I have a lot to be thankful for.”

Erik felt his cheeks heat up, and he bit his lower lip, not being able to look up at Charles. He still felt like he had a block inside his chest, preventing him from expressing the things he felt for the other man. Erik knew that Charles's abilities made it possible to get the affection through without the need to say it explicitly, but he didn't want to exploit that. Charles deserved more. He deserved everything.

"Okay, let's go then," Erik said with a deep sigh. 

"Wonderful!" Charles exclaimed, his face lighting up. "Now, onto the next order of business. I have some plans for tonight." Finishing off his drink, he went over to the bed, picking up a book. "Ginsberg. You wanted to know who I dressed up as on Halloween. Some nice American poetry will be good for both of us."

"Whatever you say."

"Come, lie down with me, and I will read to you."

Erik strolled over with mock-reluctance. He had a hard time getting used to Charles's touchy-feely personality, since he had always had problems with touching. But Charles loved to cuddle, could wrap himself around Erik like a koala bear crossed with an octopus. After turning off his body's initial reaction to run as fast and as far as possible, Erik learned to secretly love those times. 

So he lay back on some perched up pillows, with Charles leaning against his chest, arms crossed in front of the shorter man. It was a position that granted him the opportunity to pepper Charles's neck and shoulder with kisses, so he wasn't complaining.

They spent the night like this, sharing kisses from time to time, Erik listening to Charles's favorite pieces. But even though the poetry was really nice, what Erik liked the most about them was what he learned about the author in question. 

The man had come from a Jewish family and had lived through a time when homosexuality had been against the law. And still, he had managed to make immortal art, becoming one of the most important artists in his generation. If he had been able to survive during such hardships, so could Erik. It was very motivational.

* * *

On Thursday, they picked up a nice bottle of wine from the grocery store and went over to the community dining hall where the dinner was held. They were both in a relatively good mood, the oncoming exams still far away, and the prospect of a long weekend ahead of them with nothing to do but enjoying long walks on the campus grounds, even longer chess games, and maybe some uninterrupted time just to discover each other. 

Charles's cheerful manner diminished when they arrived at the dining room and saw someone familiar at the table. Logan Howlett, one of his rather gruff exes sat there, chatting with a pretty red-head girl Charles had never seen before. 

"Xavier! Fancy seeing you here!" The man greeted him loudly, standing up to stride over to them. "It's been a while since I last heard from you. And who is your... friend?" 

There was a tense silence between Erik and Logan, while both of them eyed each other up and down in a rather disconcerting way. Erik could feel some sort of very special metal in the man's body, but still, even with the familiar alloy, he rubbed Erik up the wrong way.

"Erik Lehnsherr. I'm Charles's... friend."

Logan grinned and took the offered hand. "Oh, it looks like we are quite an international group tonight. Friend, right?" A suggestive wink made Charles red and embarrassed. "I used to be Charles's friend. He is a very good... friend."

"Shut up, Logan, or I will make you."

Blue eyes glimmering with anger, Charles quickly found Logan's mind and sent some vivid pictures of what he would do to the man if he didn't lay off the topic. Logan in return sent back some memories of their previous encounters, with a smug grin.

"You are not scaring me, English. Never had. Never will."

Charles could feel Erik's nerves, the unease practically radiating from his boyfriend's mind. He reached out to soothe it, but found the now-familiar psyche closed up and guarded.  _ Crap. _

Erik felt cold sweeping through his bones. He knew about Charles's past life, he knew that he had a history with being all around campus. But it was one thing to know that and completely another to meet one of Charles's exes. And he didn't like the way this guy was looking at Charles. Erik had the urge to use his powers, just a little bit, to manipulate the metal inside his body. 

"Yes, he is a great friend.  _ MY  _ friend," Erik asserted, tensing up and glaring at Logan dangerously.

But Logan didn't seem intimidated. He held the eye contact for a couple of seconds, then broke out in a snickering laugh.

"Being territorial, are we? Don't you worry, Lehnsherr, I have a new friend, so you can keep your cool," he gestured over to the woman still sitting at the table. "Her name is Jean Grey."

As they made their introductions, Erik couldn't help himself. Just as Logan went to sit down, he flicked his fingers and the guy landed on the floor. That felt good. 

By the end of the night, Erik wanted to slowly strangle the guy with various metal objects. It was only for Charles's calming hand on his thigh that kept him from combusting. Logan was everything he hated in people. He was loud and bawdy and made no secret about his shared history with Charles. It made Erik remember how under-experienced he was, and couldn't stop thinking about how Charles deserved someone better than him. It was on his mind a lot, anyway, because he still couldn't really understand what Charles was doing here with him. Charles, who could have everyone in the whole world without even lifting a finger, chose to be with Erik. The broke German guy with several issues, who couldn't even tell him how he was feeling. There was an annoying little voice in Erik's mind that told him that this was only temporary, that Charles will one day realize that Erik was too damaged for him and leave.

Charles's hand tightened on Erik's thigh. Turning his face to the side, Erik saw how Charles's face had fallen. 

"I'm trying not to listen, but you are projecting really loudly again," Charles whispered so only they could hear. "Do you want to leave? We could go to my place, it's closer."

"Please," Erik muttered desperately. 

Charles squeezed his thigh one more time before standing up. "Thank you for the nice evening, but we are both exhausted so we will call it a night."

Logan wanted to say something, but found his lips locked.  _ You did enough damage for one night.  _ Charles projected into his mind. They said their goodbyes to their hosts, and soon were on their way.

Out on the darkened lawn, Charles took Erik's hand and held it tightly, without any objection. 

"We are almost home. It's gonna be alright," Charles whispered as they walked past the buildings to get to Charles's apartment.

The moment the door closed behind them Charles pulled Erik into his arms, kissing him long and hard, casting everything he felt for the man.

"How can I help?" He asked finally, still holding Erik tightly, face pressed into his shoulder. 

Erik couldn't answer, just closed his eyes and tried to relax. The anger was slowly ebbing away, but the dread was still with him.  _ This is good.  _ He thought, loud enough for Charles to hear. 

So they stayed there, in the middle of Charles's living room, holding onto each other like a lifeline, not saying anything, just breathing together until Erik finally felt like he could talk again.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for ruining your evening."

"Stop that. You didn't ruin anything." Charles slapped him gently. "Don't worry about it. Are you feeling better?"

Erik nodded slowly. He still felt a bit sick and shaky, but it was getting better now.

"Can we go to bed?  _ Can you hold me tonight?"  _ He added the second part in his mind, not feeling strong enough to say it out loud. 

_ "Of course, Darling. Anything you need." _

They silently changed into their sleeping clothes – Erik already brought a couple of his stuff over so he could stay the night. 

With Charles's arms around himself and his boyfriend's voice in his mind, Erik tried to let go. There was still that terrible feeling of not being enough, not being what Charles deserved, but it was quieted. For now.

* * *

The next morning found them tangled together under the sheets, Charles plastered against Erik's back, arms holding him close to his chest. 

Erik's mind was calm now, the turbulence of last night somewhat eased. Charles brushed over it like a gentle caress, staying on the surface, not entering without permission.

Charles felt a heady rush of anger flowing through him, at every single person in Erik's past who had hurt him and had made him question his own worth. Charles himself knew how it felt to be neglected and abused thanks to a cold, unloving mother and a downright abusive stepfather. But Charles had had the power to stop the man even when he had still been a child, and after a reminder of what Charles was able to do, he had not dared to raise a hand on Charles again.

Both his mother and that bastard of a stepfather were gone now, and even before that, Charles had left them behind, emerging if not unscratched, but alive.

Erik's past was filled with demons, and Charles only knew about some of them, not even to their full extent. 

It was amazing how deep he had fallen for this strange man, and how strongly he was feeling after such a short time. He wanted to protect and support him, be a helping hand in his battle against the demons of the past.

Charles could feel Erik's mind slowly waking up, consciousness resurfacing from sleep.

"Good morning, dear," he said, tightening his embrace around Erik's chest, pulling him closer, while slowly peppering kisses all over his back. "How are you?"

As Erik slowly woke up, first he tensed up from the hands around him, but when he heard Charles’s voice, he slumped back into his arms.

"Morning. Better, I guess. I'm sorry about yesterday."

Charles loosened his hold so Erik could turn around to face him. 

"I told you already, stop saying you are sorry. It was perfectly valid to feel like that.  _ There is nothing to apologize for. We are humans, even if we are mutants. We feel and we can break down sometimes. I told you before, you are not alone with this anymore." _

Erik hid his face in Charles's shoulder, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

_ "It's all right, you don't have to say anything. I feel it, I hear it, I know it. I'm here with you." _

" _ How are you real?"  _ Came the quiet question, as Erik's mind slowly opened up under Charles's mental touch. 

_ "Oh, I am very real, darling. And I'm not going anywhere." _

They just lay there after that, basking in the presence of each other, content in their silence. 

* * *

They decided to stay in, since neither of them had anywhere to go, thanks to the Thanksgiving break. They both had essays to write and exams to prepare for, but those could wait. They both had little interest in day-time television, so Charles continued to read Ginsberg. 

"This guy is amazing. Is he still active?" Erik asked quietly between two poems. 

"I don't know," Charles admitted. "I heard he was pretty sick. But I will make some phone calls, see what I can find out. I thought you might like him. And he did get us together in a way," Charles smirked. "That Halloween party will be a story to tell our grandchildren."

Erik rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling. Warmth was spreading in his chest at the idea of one day having a family with this wonderful man. "You are being a sap. How long had we been together? 3 whole weeks? And you are already planning our grandchildren?"

Charles just winked at Erik, projecting an image of little children running around them as they were old and grey. 

"Stop it, you are making me go all mushy. I don't do mushy," Erik protested, without really meaning it.

"What's wrong with mushy?" Charles put the book down on the bedside table to turn around and plant a long kiss on Erik's lips. "Some mush is good for you."

Erik felt like he could spend his life like this. Kissing this exceptional young man for the rest of his life. He had never felt like this before. Erik's body was on fire, and he knew that they were keeping the slow pace because of him, but with every day, he got more and more curious. He knew Charles was beautiful, but he was itching to see more of the man. 

But of course, there were his insecurities about his lack of experience. Erik was terrified of messing something up, and accidentally hurting Charles, or even worse, making the man realize how much better he could do than an awkward near-virgin. 

_ "Erik! You are going there again. Stop it. If you feel like you are ready for it, I'm very much game. But there is no pressure whatsoever." _

_ "But isn't that the point?"  _ Even Erik's mental voice sounded smug. 

" _ Shut up, you brat, I'm being serious over here." _

Erik rolled them over so he was lying on top of Charles with hands over his shoulders, leaning down to kiss him again, now with a definite hunger. 

"I'm being very serious as well. I want it. With you. But you have to tell me what to do, because I have absolutely no idea of what I'm doing."

Charles beamed up at him, his smile bright and wide, making his whole face glow up. 

"They say I'm a good teacher."

"Then teach me, Professor."

Getting rid of their shirts was fast, the garments flying over the room, no one caring about where they would land. Charles turned them over in the meantime, so he could properly discover Erik's beautiful torso. It wasn't the first time he saw Erik shirtless, but it was still a special occasion, because now he had a purpose and an agenda. Erik was lean and muscled, had the body of a runner, and Charles made it his mission to run his tongue over every inch of delicate skin until Erik was writhing under him. 

_ "Relax, and let me make you feel good,"  _ Charles said in Erik's mind as he slowly slid down to nip on his flat stomach, teasing the hem of his sweatpants. _ "Can you lift your hips a bit?" _

Eager to comply, Erik rose from the bed so Charles could pull his pants down and off his legs. Charles was happy to see that Erik wasn't wearing any underwear. The sight that greeted him made his eyes bulge and his mouth fall open slightly.

Charles had the feeling Erik was well-endowed, he could feel that much while they were cuddling, but he did not expect this. 

Erik was huge. Way bigger than anyone Charles had ever been with. And Charles had a lot of references.

"Is something wrong?" Erik asked worriedly, looking down with a hint of panic in his voice.

"No, of course not. Just... bloody hell, Erik. This will certainly be a challenge. Even for me. Darling, you are  _ HUGE _ ."

Erik huffed with an awkward laugh. "Am I? I mean I know I'm not small or something, but I don't really have many references to compare to."

"Not small?? For fucks' sake, Erik. You must be at least 7 inches if not more."

Erik looked uncomfortable, so Charles quickly added, "No, darling it's okay. It's more than okay. I was just caught off-guard."

"I never thought it would be that much of a deal," Erik said sheepishly. 

"It's wonderful, it's perfect. You are perfect," Charles whispered into his skin as he leaned down to slowly lick the length of his shaft. 

"Oh, fuck," Erik groaned and his head fell back onto the pillows. "Do that again."

Charles grinned and wrapped his lips around the tip, sucking slightly as he slowly slid down as far as he could, with his hand holding the base. Choking lightly, Charles came back up for air. 

"This will definitely need some getting used to. But I love a good challenge."

"Whatever you want, just please put your mouth back on me." Erik was already breathless, fingers tightening in the bedsheet to keep himself from grabbing at Charles.

"Oh, darling, I'm just warming up."

With a wink, Charles took Erik back into his mouth again, sliding down as far as he could reach, substituting his lips with his hands where he couldn't. 

Charles played with the head a little bit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the absolutely wrecked noises Erik made, before sliding down again as far as he could.

Erik groaned loudly when he felt his cock pushing into Charles's throat, and his hips pistoned forward before he could stop them.

Charles choked and slid off to catch his breath, eyes watering.

"Sorry, fuck, I didn't mean to..." Erik apologized, brows furrowing and voice tinted with guilt.

Charles tapped Erik’s thigh reassuringly. “It’s all right, darling. Just please keep those hips down for now. I’m not there yet with your quite impressive assets. But anyhow, I’m enjoying this very much.”

“Needless to say, the feeling is mutual.”

Charles winked at him again, before getting back to work, sliding up and down slowly, making sure his tongue was teasing the underside of Erik’s cock all the way.

Erik’s fingers were in Charles’s hair in no time, holding onto the brown locks as his own head was tilted back onto the pillow. Back arched in a delicate bow, he was getting closer and closer to his climax. 

“I’m… I will… I can’t hold on for much longer…” Erik trashed as he tried to warn his boyfriend.

Charles let his cock out of his mouth with a loud popping sound and slid up on Erik’s body to get back to eye-level with him.

“You have a choice to make now. Do you want to come in my mouth or want to try something else? I’m not sure I’m ready for your rather impressive proportions to go all the way, so we will have to keep that for another time. So, what do you say?” All the while he was talking, Charles continued to jerk him off slowly with languid strokes. 

"I don't know. Whatever you want. I trust you," Erik grumbled breathlessly. 

"Hmmm, okay. I have an idea."

Charles quickly got rid of his own remaining clothes before joining Erik back on the bed, now both of them fully naked.

"Hi, there," he grinned as they first rubbed together completely. He kissed Erik again, thrusting himself against the hardness of the other man. 

_ "Just let go, darling. I'm right here to catch you."  _ Charles whispered directly into Erik's mind as he picked up the pace of his hips. 

Erik's words died on his lips, only indistinctive German gibberish remained as he got closer to his peaking point. 

_ "That's it. Come, darling. Come for me,"  _ Charles bit down on Erik's collarbone as he linked their minds so they both could feel the other even more, multiplying the already wonderful sensations. That was enough for Erik, whose whole body went taut, back arching as his orgasm rushed through him in waves. Their shared consciousness made it able for Charles to feel Erik's climax and it was enough for him to come undone as well. 

With some last thrusts of his hips, Charles finally fell down onto Erik's chest, completely exhausted but content, happy and boneless. His skin was tingling with the afterglow of his orgasm.

When Charles felt like he could move again, he looked up at Erik with a tired grin. The sight was absolutely gorgeous. Erik was sprawled on the bed, head tilted back, showing the long column of his neck, now littered with little pink marks. 

"So how was that for your first time with a guy?" Charles asked, nuzzling his face to Erik's side.

" _ Scheiße _ **,** that was... amazing. Unbelievable. And the thing you did with your powers, wow. That was... literally mind-blowing."

"Oh, and you have seen nothing yet. But now I think we are in desperate need of a shower. We made a mess."

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up with some comments and kudos if you liked it!


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